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GRANDFATHERS  CHAIR 


Grandfathers  Chair 


OR 


TRUE  STORIES  FROM  NEW  ENGLAND  HISTORY 
AND   BIOGRAPHICAL   STORIES 


BY 

NA  THAN  I  EL  HA  WTHORNE 


WITH  SEVENTY  ILLUSTRA  TIONS 


CHICAGO 
IV.  B.   CON  KEY  COMPANY 


IN  UNIFORM  STYLE 
Copiously  Illustrated 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

ALICE  'S  ADVENTURES  IN  WONDERLAND 

THROUGH  THE  LOOKING-GLASS  AND 

WHAT  ALICE  FOUND  THERE 
ROBINSON  CRUSOE 
WOOD  'S  NA  TURAL  HISTOR  Y 
A  CHILD  'S  LIRE  OF  CHRIST 
STORY  OF  THE  BIBLE  FOR   YOUNG  PEOPLE 
LITTLE  LAME  PRINCE 
THE  SWISS  FAMIL  Y  ROBINSON 
THE  FABLES  OF  AESOP 
MOTHER  GOOSE  RHYMES  AND  JINGLES 
G  ULLIVER  'S  TRA  J  'ELS 

ARABIAN  NIGHTS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 
BLACK  BEAUTY 
ANDERSEN'S  FAIRY  TALES 
GRIMM'S  FAIRY  TALES 
GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 
NURSERY  TALES:     THE  OLD  FAVORITES 
TREASURE  ISLAND 
TALES  FROM  SHAKESPEARE 
THE  WATER-BABIES 

RIP  VAN  WINKLE.  AND  SLEEPY  HOLLOW 
CHILD'S   HISTORY  OF  ENGLAND,  by  Charles 

Dickens 
A   WONDER-BOOK  FOR  BOYS  AND  GIRLS 
LIVES  OF  THE  PRESIDENTS  OF  THE 

UNITED  STATES 

Others  in  preparation . 

CHICAGO 
W.  B.  CONKEY  COMPANY 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


CHAPTER  I 


Grandfather   had  been  sitting  in 
his  old   armchair   all   that  pleasant 
afternoon.     Sometimes    you    would 
have  said,  "Grandfather  is  asleep!" 
but  still,  even  when  his  eyes  were 
closed,  his  thoughts  were 
with    the    young    people, 
playing  among  the  flowers 
and     shrubbery     of      the 
garden.      He    heard    the 
voice    of    Laurence,    who 
was  building  a  hut  for  his 
cousin  Clara  and  himself. 
He  heard  Clara's  gladsome 
voice,   as  she  weeded  and 
watered     the     flower-bed 
which  had  been  given  her 
for  her  own.  He  could  have  = 
counted    every   footstep" 
that  Charley    took,   as  he 
trundled  his  wheelbarrow 
along     the    gravel    walk. 
And  though   Grandfather 
was  old  and  gray-haired,  yet  his  heart  leaped  with  joy  when- 
ever little  Alice  came  fluttering  like  a  butterfly  into  the  room. 


BREWSTER  S   CHAIR 


6  GRANDFATHER'S   CHAIR 

She  made  each  of  the  children  her  playmate  in  turn,  and  now 
made  Grandfather  her  playmate  too;  and  thought  him  the 
merriest  of  them  all. 

At  last  the  children  grew  weary  of  their  sports;  so  they  came 
into  the  room  together,  and  clustered  round  Grandfather's 
great  chair.  "Grandfather,"  said  little  Alice,  laying  her  head 
back  upon  his  arm,  "I  am  very  tired  now.  You  must  tell  me 
a  story  to  make  me  go  to  sleep." 

"That  is  not  what  story-tellers  like,"  answered  Grandfather, 
smiling.  "They  are  better  pleased  when  they  can  keep  their 
auditors  awake." 

"But  here  are  Laurence,  and  Charley,  and  I,"  cried  cousin 
Clara,  who  was  twice  as  old  as  little  Alice.  "We  will  all 
three  keep  wide  awake.  And  pray,  Grandfather,  tell  us  a 
story  about  this  strange-looking  old  chair." 

Now,  the  chair  in  which  Grandfather  sat  was  made  of  oak, 
which  had  grown  dark  with  age,  but  had  been  rubbed  and 
polished  till  it  shone  as  bright  as  mahogany.  It  was  very 
large  and  heavy,  and  had  a  back  that  rose  high  above  Grand- 
father's white  head.  This  back  was  curiously  carved  in  open- 
work, so  as  to  represent  flowers,  and  foliage,  and  other  devices, 
which  the  children  had  often  gazed  at.  On  the  very  tiptop  of 
the  chair,  over  the  head  of  Grandfather  himself,  was  a  like- 
ness of  a  lion's  head,  which  had  such  a  savage  grin  that  you 
would  almost  expect  to  hear  it  growl  and  snarl. 

The  children  had  seen  Grandfather  sitting  in  this  chair  ever 
since  they  could  remember  anything.  Perhaps  the  younger  of 
them  supposed  that  he  and  the  chair  had  come  into  the  world 
together,  and  that  both  had  always  been  as  old  as  they  were  now. 
"Do,  Grandfather,  talk  to  us  about  this  chair,"  was  repeated. 

"Well,  children,"  said  Grandfather,  "I  can  tell  you  a  great 
many  stories  of  my  chair.  Perhaps  your  cousin  Laurence 
would  like  to  hear  them  too  They  will  teach  him  something 
about  the  history  and  distinguished  people  of  this  country 
which  he  has  never  read  in  any  of  his  schoolbooks. " 


GRANDFATHER'S   CHAIR 


CHAPTER    II 


But  before  relating  the  adventures   of  the   chair.   Grand- 
father found  it  necessary  to  speak  of  the  circumstances  that 


MILES   STANDISH'S   SWORD,   POT,  AND   PLATTER 


caused  the  first  settlement  of  New  England.  For  it  will  soon 
be  perceived  that  the  story  of  this  remarkable  chair  cannot  be 
told  without  telling  a  great  deal  of  the  history  of  the  country. 


GRANDFATHER'S   CHAIR  9 

So  Grandfather  talked  about  the  Puritans,  as  those  persons 
were  called  who  thought  it  sinful  to  practice  the  religious 
forms  and  ceremonies  which  the  Church  of  England  had  bor- 
rowed from  the  Roman  Catholics.  These  Puritans  suffered 
so  much  persecution  in  England,  that,  in  1607,  many  of  them 


BIBLE  BROUGHT  OVER  IN  THE  MAYFLOWER,  IN 
PILGRIM  HALL,  NEW  PLYMOUTH 

went  over  to  Holland,  and  lived  ten  or  twelve  years  at 
Amsterdam  and  Leyden.  But  they  feared  if  they  continued 
there  much  longer,  they  should  cease  to  be  English,  and 
should  adopt  the  manners,  ideas,  and  feelings  of  the  Dutch. 
So  in  the  year  1620  they  embarked  on  board  of  the  ship  May- 
flower,   and   crossed    the    ocean,    to  the   shores  of  Cape  Cod. 


10  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

There  they  made  a  settlement,  and  called  it  Plymouth,  which, 
though  now  a  part  of  Massachusetts,  was  for  a  long  time  a 
colony  by  itself.  And  thus  was  formed  the  earliest  settlement 
of  the  Puritans  in  America. 

Meanwhile,  those  of  the  Puritans  who  remained  in  England 
continued  to  suffer  grievous  persecutions  on  account  of  their 
religious  opinions.  They  began  to  look  around  them  for  some 
spot  where  they  might  worship-  God  according  to  the  dictates 
of  their  own  conscience.  When  their  brethren  had  gone  from 
Holland  to  America,  they  bethought  themselves  that  they  like- 
wise might  find  refuge  from  persecution  there.  Several 
gentlemen  among  them  purchased  a  tract  of  country  on  the 
coast  of  Massachusetts  Bay,  and  obtained  a  charter  from  King 
Charles  the  First,  which  authorized  them  to  make  laws  for  the 
settlers.  In  the  year  1628  they  sent  over  a  few  people,  with 
John  Endicott  at  their  head,  to  commence  a  plantation  at 
Salem.  Peter  Palfrey,  Roger  Conant,  and  one  or  two  more 
had  built  houses  there  in  1626,  and  may  be  considered  as  the 
first  settlers  of  that  ancient  town.  Many  other  Puritans  pre- 
pared to  follow  Endicott. 

"And  now  we  come  to  the  chair,  my  dear  children,"  said 
Grandfather.  ' '  This  chair  is  supposed  to  have  been  made  of  an 
oak  tree  which  grew  in  the  park  of  the  English  earl  of  Lincoln 
nearly  three  centuries  ago.  In  its  younger  days  it  used  to  stand 
in  the  hall  of  the  earl's  castle.  Do  not  you  see  the  coat-of-arms 
of  the  family  of  Lincoln  carved  in  the  openwork  of  the  back? 
But  when  his  daughter,  the  Lady  Arbella,  was  married  to  a 
certain  Mr.  Johnson,  the  earl  gave  her  this  valuable  chair. " 

"Who  was  Mr.  Johnson?"  inquired  Clara. 

"He  was  a  gentleman  of  great  wealth,  who  agreed  with  the 
Puritans  in  their  religious  opinions,"  answered  Grandfather. 
"And  as  his  belief  was  the  same  as  theirs,  he  resolved  that  he 
would  live  and  die  with  them.  Accordingly,  in  1630,  he  left 
all  his  comforts  in  England,  and  embarked,  with  Lady  Arbella, 
on  board  a  ship  bound  for  America." 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


11 


As  Grandfather  was  frequently  interrupted  by  the  questions 
and  observations  of  his  young  auditors,  we  deem  it  advisable 


JOHN    ENDICOTT 

to  omit  all  such  prattle  as  is  not  essential  to  the  story.       We 
have   taken   some  pains  to  find  out  exactly  what  Grandfather 


12  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

said,  and  here  offer  to  our  readers  as  nearly  as  possible  in  his 
own  words,  the  story  of 

THE    LADY   ARBELLA 

The  ship  in  which  Johnson  and  his  lady  embarked,  taking 
Grandfather's  chair  along  with  them,  was  called  the  Arbella, 
in  honor  of  the  lady  herself.  A  fleet  of  twelve  vessels,  with 
many  hundred  passengers,  left  England  about  the  same  time; 
for  a  multitude  of  people,  who  were  discontented  with  the 
king's  government  and  oppressed  by  the  bishops,  were  flock- 
ing over  to  the  New  World.  One  of  the  vessels  was  that  same 
Mayflower  which  had  carried  the  Puritan  pilgrims  to  Plym- 
outh. And  now,  my  children,  I  would  have  you  fancy  your- 
selves in  the  cabin  of  the  good  ship  Arbella;  because  if  you 
could  behold  the  passengers  aboard  that  vessel,  you  would  feel 
what  a  blessing  and  honor  it  was  for  New  England  to  have 
such  settlers.     They  were  the  best  men  and  women  of  their  day. 

Among  the  passengers  was  John  Winthrop,  who  had  sold 
the  estate  of  his  forefathers,  and  was  going  to  prepare  a  new 
home  for  his  wife  and  children  in  the  wilderness.  He  had  the 
king's  charter  in  his  keeping,  and  was  appointed  the  first  gov- 
ernor of  Massachusetts.  Imagine  him  a  person  of  grave  and 
benevolent  aspect,  dressed  in  a  black  velvet  suit,  with  a  broad 
ruff  around  his  neck,  and  a  peaked  beard  upon  his  chin. 
There  was  likewise  a  minister  of  the  gospel  whom  the  English 
bishops  had  forbidden  to  preach,  but  who  knew  that  he  should 
have  liberty  both  to  preach  and  pray  in  the  forests  of  Amer- 
ica. Not  only  these,  but  several  other  men  of  wealth,  and 
pious  ministers,  were  in  the  cabin  of  the  Arbella. 

Every  morning  and  evening  the  Lady  Arbella  gave  up  her 
great  chair  to  one  of  the  ministers,  who  took  his  place  in  it 
and  read  passages  from  the  Bible  to  his  companions.  And 
thus,  with  prayers,  and  pious  conversation,  and  frequent  sing- 
ing of  hymns,  they  pursued  their  voyage,  and  sailed  into  the 
harbor  of  Salem  in  the  month  of  June. 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


13 


At  that  period  there  were  but  eight  dwellings  in  the  town ; 
and  these  were  miserable  hovels,  with  roofs  of  straw  and  wooden 
chimneys.     The  passengers  built  huts  with  bark  and  branches 


TOMB  OF  THE  MATE  OF  THE  MAYFLOWER 

of  trees,  or  erected  tents  of  cloth  till  they  could  provide  them- 
selves with  better  shelter.  Many  of  them  went  to  form  a 
settlement  at  Charlestown.     It  was  thought  fit  that  the  Lady 


14  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

Arbella  should  tarry  in  Salem  for  a  time;  she  was  probably 
received  as  a  guest  into  the  family  of  John  Endicott.  He 
was  the  chief  person  in  the  plantation,  and  had  the  only  com- 
fortable house  which  the  newcomers  had  beheld  since  they 
left  England.  So  now  you  must  imagine  Grandfather's  chair 
in  the  midst  of  a  new  scene. 

Suppose  it  a  hot  summer's  day,  and  the  lattice-window  of  a 
chamber  in  Endicott's  house  thrown  wide  open.  The  Lady 
Arbella  is  sitting  in  the  chair  and  thinking  mournfully  of  far- 
off  England.  She  rises  and  goes  to  the  window.  There,  amid 
patches  of  the  garden  ground  and  cornfield,  she  sees  the  few 
wretched  hovels  of  the  settlers,  with  the  still  ruder  wigwams 
and  cloth  tents  of  the  passengers  who  had  arrived  in  the  same 
fleet  with  herself.  Far  and  near  stretches  the  dismal  forest 
of  pine  trees,  which  throw  their  black  shadows  over  the  whole 
land,  and  likewise  over  the  heart  of  this  poor  lady. 

All  the  inhabitants  of  the  little  village  are  busy.  One  is 
clearing  a  spot  for  his  homestead;  another  is  hewing  the  trunk 
of  a  fallen  pine  tree,  in  order  to  build  himself  a  dwelling;  a 
third  is  hoeing  in  his  field  of  Indian  corn.  Here  comes  a 
huntsman  out  of  the  woods,  dragging  a  bear  which  he  has 
shot,  and  shouting  to  the  neighbors  to  lend  him  a  hand.  There 
goes  a  man  to  the  seashore,  with  a  spade  and  a  bucket  to  dig  a 
mess  of  clams,  which  were  a  principal  article  of  food  for  the 
first  settlers.  Scattered  here  and  there  are  two  or  three  dusky 
figures,  clad  in  mantles  of  fur,  with  ornaments  of  bone  hang- 
ing from  their  ears,  and  the  feathers  of  wild  birds  in  their 
coal-black  hair.  They  have  belts  of  shell-work,  slung  across 
their  shoulders,  and  are  armed  with  bows  and  arrows  and 
flint-headed  spears.  These  are  an  Indian  Sagamore  and  his 
attendants,  who  have  come  to  gaze  at  the  labors  of  the  white 
men.  And  now  rises  a  cry  that  a  pack  of  wolves  have  seized 
a  young  calf  in  the  pasture;  and  every  man  snatches  up  his 
gun  or  pike  and  runs  in  chase  of  the  marauding  beasts. 

Johnson  had  gone,  with  Winthrop  and   most  of  the  other 


16 


GRANDFATHERS  CHAIR 


passengers,  to  Boston,  where  he  intended  to  build  a  house  for 
Lady  Arbella  and  himself.  Boston  was  then  covered  with 
wild  woods,  and  had  fewer  inhabitants,  even  than  Salem. 
During  her  husband's  absence,  poor  Lady  Arbella  felt  herself 


INDIAN   WEAPONS 


growing  ill,  and  was  hardly  able  to  stir  from  the  great  chair. 
Whenever  Endicott  noticed  her  despondency,  he  addressed 
her  with  words  of  comfort.  "Cheer  up,  my  good  lady!  In 
a  little  time,  you  will  love  this  rude  life  of  the  wilderness  as  I 


INDIAN    MEDICINE    BAG,    MYSTERY    WHISTLE,  RATTLES   AND    DRUM 
2  Chair 


18  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

do."  But  Endicott's  heart  was  as  bold  and  resolute  as  iron, 
and  he  could  not  understand  why  a  woman's  heart  should 
not  be  of  iron  too. 

What  a  contrast,  my  dear  children,  between  this  bold, 
rough,  active  man,  and  the  gentle  Lady  Arbella,  who  was 
fading  away,  like  a  pale  English  flower,  in  the  shadow  of  the 
forest!  And  now  the  great  chair  was  often  empty,  because 
Lady  Arbella  grew  too  weak  to  arise  from  bed. 

Meanwhile,  her  husband  had  pitched  upon  a  spot  for  their 
new  home.  He  returned  from  Boston  to  Salem,  traveling 
through  the  woods  on  foot,  and  leaning  on  his  pilgrim's  staff. 
His  heart  yearned  within  him;  for  he  was  eager  to  tell  his 
wife  of  the  new  home  which  he  had  chosen.  But  when  he 
beheld  her  pale  and  hollow  cheek,  and  found  how  her  strength 
was  wasted,  he  must  have  known  that  her  appointed  home 
was  in  a  better  land.  Happy  for  him  then — happy  both  for 
him  and  her — if  they  remembered  that  there  was  a  path  to 
Heaven,  as  well  from  this  heathen  wilderness  as  from  the 
Christian  land  whence  they  had  come.  And  so  in  one  short 
month  from  her  arrival,  the  gentle  Lady  Arbella  faded  away 
and  died.  They  dug  a  grave  for  her  in  the  new  soil,  where 
the  roots  of  the  pine  trees  impeded  their  spades;  and  when 
her  bones  had  rested  there  nearly  two  hundred  years,  and  a 
city  had  sprung  up  around  them,  a  church  of  stone  was  built 
upon  the  spot. 

"I  never  heard  anything  so  melancholy!"  said  Clara. 

"The  people  loved  Johnson  so  much,"  continued  Grand- 
father, "that  it  was  the  last  request  of  many  of  them,  when 
they  died,  that  they  might  be  buried  as  near  as  possible  to 
this  good  man's  grave.  And  so  the  field  became  the  first 
burial-ground  in  Boston.  When  you  pass  through  Tremont 
Street,  along  by  King's  Chapel,  you  see  a  burial-ground,  con- 
taining many  old  grave-stones  and  monuments.  That  was 
Johnson's  field. " 

"How  sad  is  the  thought,"  observed  Clara,  "that  one  of  the 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


19 


first  things  which   the  settlers  had  to  do,  when  they  came  to 
the  New  World,  was  to  set  apart  a  burial-ground!" 

"Perhaps,"  said  Laurence,  "if  they  had  found  no  need  of 


MONUMENT  AT  NEW  PLYM- 
OUTH TO  MARK  THE  SITE 
OF  THE  LANDING  OF  THE 
PLYMOUTH  FATHERS 


burial-grounds  here,  they  would  have  been  glad,  after  a  few 
years,  to  go  back  to  England."  Grandfather  looked  at  Lau- 
rence, to  discover  whether  he  knew  how  profound  and  true  a 
thing  he  had  said. 


20  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


CHAPTER    III 

"Grandfather,  I  want  to  hear  more  about  your  chair,"  said 
Charley. 

Now,  Grandfather  remembered  that  Charley  had  galloped 
away  upon  a  stick  in  the  middle  of  the  narrative  of  poor  Lady 
Arbella.  But  Laurence  laid  down  his  book,  and  seconded  the 
request.  Clara  drew  her  chair  nearer  to  Grandfather;  and 
little  Alice  closed  her  picture  book  and  looked  up  into  his  face. 
Grandfather  had  not  the  heart  to  disappoint  them. 

He  mentioned  several  persons  who  had  a  share  in  the  settle- 
ment of  our  country,  and  who  would  be  worthy  of  remem- 
brance, if  we  could  find  room  to  tell  about  them  all.  Among 
the  rest,  Grandfather  spoke  of  the  famous  Hugh  Peters,  a 
minister  of  the  gospel,  who  did  much  good  to  the  inhabitants 
of  Salem.  Peters  afterwards  went  back  to  England,  and  was 
chaplain  to  Oliver  Cromwell;  but  Grandfather  did  not  tell  the 
children  what  became  of  this  upright  and  zealous  man  at  last. 
In  fact,  his  auditors  were  growing  impatient  to  hear  more 
about  the  history  of  the  chair. 

"After  Johnson's  death,"  said  he,  "Grandfather's  chair 
came  into  the  possession  of  Roger  Williams.  He  was  a  clergy- 
man, who  arrived  at  Salem,  and  settled  there  in  1631." 

One  incident  connected  with  his  life  must  be  related, 
because  it  will  give  the  reader  an  idea  of  the  opinions  and 
feelings  of  the  first  settlers  of  New  England.  It  was  as  fol- 
lows: 

THE    RED    CROSS 

While  Roger  Williams  sat  in  Grandfather's  chair  at  his 
humble  residence  in  Salem,  John  Endicott  would  often  come 
to  visit  him.       As  the  clergy  had  great  influence  in  temporal 


««*?::  '-«;'-*:: 


^  r^? S^'    ?="*=>   ^      "*"•'  ^ 

FORT   DUMPLING,   NEW   PLYMOUTH 


22  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

concerns,  the  minister  and  magistrate  would  talk  over  the 
occurrences  of  the  day,  and  consult  how  the  people  might  be 
governed  according  to  scriptural  laws. 

One  thing  especially  troubled  them  both.  In  the  old 
national  banner  of  England,  under  which  her  soldiers  have 
fought  for  hundreds  of  years,  there  is  a  Red  Cross,  which  has 
been  there  ever  since  the  days  when  England  was  in  subjec- 
tion to  the  Pope.  The  Cross,  though  a  holy  symbol,  was 
abhorred  by  the  Puritans,  because  they  considered  it  a  relic 
of  popish  idolatry.  Now,  whenever  the  train-band  of  Salem 
was  mustered,  the  soldiers,  with  Endicott  at  their  head,  had 
no  other  flag  to  march  under  than  this  same  old  papistical 
banner  of  England,  with  the  Red  Cross  in  the  middle  of  it. 
The  banner  of  the  Red  Cross,  likewise,  was  flying  on  the 
walls  of  the  fort  of  Salem;  and  a  similar  one  was  displayed  in 
Boston  harbor,  from  the  fortress  on  Castle  Island. 

"I  profess,  Brother  Williams,"  Captain  Endicott  would  say, 
after  they  had  been  talking  of  this  matter,  "it  distresses  a 
Christian  man's  heart  to  see  this  idolatrous  Cross  flying  over 
our  heads.  A  stranger,  beholding  it,  would  think  that  we  had 
undergone  all  our  hardships  and  dangers,  by  sea  and  in  the 
wilderness,  only  to  get  new  dominions  for  the  Pope  of  Rome." 

"Truly,  good  Mr.  Endicott,"  Roger  Williams  would  answer, 
"you  speak  as  an  honest  man  and  Protestant  Christian  should. 
For  mine  own  part,  I  should  reckon  it  sinful  to  fight  under 
such  a  banner.  Neither  can  I,  in  my  pulpit,  ask  the  blessing 
of  Heaven  upon  it." 

Endicott,  who  was  a  prompt  and  resolute  man,  soon  deter- 
mined that  Massachusetts,  if  she  could  not  have  a  banner  of 
her  own,  should  at  least  be  delivered  from  that  of  the  Pope  of 
Rome.  Not  long  afterwards  there  was  a  military  muster  at 
Salem.  Every  able-bodied  man  in  the  town  and  neighbor- 
hood was  there.  All  were  well  armed,  with  steel  caps  upon 
their  heads,  plates  of  iron  upon  their  breasts  and  at  their 
backs,  and  gorgets  of  steel  around  their  necks.     When  the  sun 


ROGER   WILLIAMS   IN   THE   FOREST 


24  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

shone  upon  these  ranks  of  iron-clad  men,  they  flashed  and 
blazed  with  a  splendor  that  bedazzled  the  wild  Indians  who 
had  come  out  of  the  woods  to  gaze  at  them.  The  soldiers  had 
long  pikes,  swords,  and  muskets,  which  were  fired  with 
matches,  and  were  almost  as  heavy  as  a  small  cannon. 

These  men  had  mostly  a  stern  and  rigid  aspect.  To  judge 
by  their  looks,  you  might  have  supposed  that  there  was  as 
much  iron  in  their  hearts  as  there  was  upon  their  heads  and 
breasts.  They  were  all  devoted  Puritans,  and  of  the  same 
temper  as  those  with  whom  Oliver  Cromwell  afterwards  over- 
threw the  throne  of  England.  They  hated  all  the  relics  of 
popish  superstition  as  much  as  Endicott  himself;  and  yet  over 
their  heads  was  displayed  the  banner  of  the  Red  Cross. 

Endicott  was  the  captain  of  the  company.  While  the  sol- 
diers were  expecting  his  orders  to  begin  their  exercise,  they 
saw  him  take  the  banner  in  one  hand,  holding  his  drawn  sword 
in  the  other.  "Fellow  soldiers,  you  see  this  old  banner  of 
England.  Some  of  you  may  think  it  treason  for  a  man  to  lay 
violent  hands  upon  it.  But  whether  or  no  it  be  treason  to 
man,  I  have  good  assurance  in  my  conscience  that  it  is  no 
treason  to  God.  Wherefore,  I  have  resolved  that  we  will 
rather  be  God's  soldiers  than  soldiers  of  the  Pope  of  Rome; 
and  in  that  mind  I  now  cut  the  Papal  Cross  out  of  this  ban- 
ner."  And  so  he  did.  And  thus,  in  a  province  belonging  to 
the  crown  of  England,  a  captain  was  found  bold  enough  to 
deface  the  king's  banner  with  his  sword. 

When  Winthrop  and  the  other  wise  men  of  Massachusetts 
heard  of  it  they  were  disquieted,  being  afraid  that  Endicott's 
act  would  bring  trouble  upon  himself  and  them.  An  account 
of  the  matter  was  carried  to  King  Charles,  but  he  was  then 
so  much  engrossed  by  dissensions  with  his  people  that  he  had 
no  leisure  to  punish  the  offender.  In  other  times  it  might 
have  cost  Endicott  his  life,  and  Massachusetts  her  charter. 

"I  should  like  to  know,  Grandfather,"  said  Laurence,  when 
the  story  was  ended,  "whether,  when  Endicott  cut  the  Red 


26  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

Cross  out  of  the  banner,  he  meant  to  imply  that  Massachusetts 
was  independent  of  England?" 

"A  sense  of  the  independence  of  his  adopted  country  must 
have  been  in  that  bold  man's  heart,"  answered  Grandfather; 
"but  I  doubt  whether  he  had  given  the  matter  much  consid- 
eration except  in  its  religious  bearing.  However,  it  was  a 
very  remarkable  affair,  and  a  very  strong  expression  of  Puri- 
tan character. " 

Grandfather  proceeded  to  speak  further  of  Roger  Williams, 
and  of  other  persons  who  sat  in  the  great  chair,  as  will  be 
seen  in  the  following  chapter. 


CHAPTER   IV 

"Roger  Williams, "  said  Grandfather,  "did  not  keep  posses- 
sion of  the  chair  a  great  while.  His  opinions  of  religious 
matters  differed,  in  many  respects,  from  those  of  the  rulers  and 
clergymen  of  Massachusetts.  Now,  the  wise  men  of  those 
days  believed  that  the  country  could  not  be  safe  unless  all  the 
inhabitants  thought  and  felt  alike." 

"Does  anybody  believe  so  in  our  days,  Grandfather?"  asked 
Laurence. 

"Possibly  there  are  some  who  believe  it,"  said  Grandfather; 
"but  they  have  not  so  much  power  to  act  upon  their  belief  as 
the  magistrates  and  ministers  had  in  the  days  of  Roger  Will- 
iams. They  had  the  power  to  deprive  this  good  man  of  his 
home,  and  to  send  him  out  from  them  in  search  of  a  new  place 
of  rest.  He  was  banished  in  1624,  and  went  first  to  Plymouth 
colony;  but  as  the  people  there  held  the  same  opinions  as 
those  of  Massachusetts,  he  was  not  suffered  to  remain  among 
them.  However,  the  wilderness  was  wide  enough,  so  Roger 
Williams  took  his  staff  and  traveled  into  the  forest  and  made 
treaties  with  the  Indians,  and  began  a  plantation  which  he 
called  Providence." 


EDWARD  WINSLOW 

(One  of  the  early  Governors) 


28  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

"I  have  been  to  Providence  on  the  railroad,"  said  Charley. 
"It  is  but  a  two-hours'  ride. " 

"Yes,  Charley,"  replied  Grandfather,  "but  when  Roger 
Williams  traveled  thither,  over  hills  and  valleys,  and  through 
the  tangled  woods,  and  across  swamps  and  streams,  it  was  a 
journey  of  several  days.  Well,  his  little  plantation  is  now 
grown  to  be  a  populous  city;  and  the  inhabitants  have  a  great 
veneration  for  Roger  Williams." 

"When  he  was  driven  from  Massachusetts,"  said  Laurence, 
"and  began  his  journey  into  the  woods,  he  must  have  felt  as 
if  he  were  burying  himself  forever  from  the  sight  and  knowl- 
edge of  men.  Yet  the  whole  country  has  now  heard  of  him, 
and  will  remember  him  forever." 

"Yes,"  answered  Grandfather;  "it  often  happens  that  the 
outcasts  of  one  generation  are  those  who  are  reverenced  as 
the  wisest  and  the  best  men  of  the  next.  The  securest  fame 
is  that  which  comes  after  a  man's  death.  But  let  us  return 
to  our  story.  When  Roger  Williams  was  banished,  he  appears 
to  have  given  the  chair  to  Mrs.  Anne  Hutchinson.  At  all 
events,  it  was  in  her  possession  in  1637.  She  was  a  very 
sharp-witted  and  well-instructed  lady,  and  used  to  hold  lectures 
in  Boston  twice  a  week,  at  which  most  of  the  women  attended. 
Mrs.  Hutchinson  presided  at  these  meetings,  sitting  with  great 
state  and  dignity  in  Grandfather's  chair. 

"Grandfather,  was  it  positively  this  very  chair?"  demanded 
Clara,  laying  her  hand  upon  its  carved  elbow.  "Why  not, 
my  dear  Clara?"  said  Grandfather. 

"Well,  Mrs.  Hutchinson's  lectures  soon  caused  a  great  dis- 
turbance; for  the  ministers  of  Boston  did  not  think  it  safe  and 
proper  that  a  woman  should  publicly  instruct  the  people  in 
religious  doctrines.  Moreover,  she  made  the  matter  worse  by 
declaring  that  the  Rev.  Mr.  Cotton  was  the  only  sincerely 
pious  and  holy  clergyman  in  New  England.  Now,  the  clergy 
of  those  days  had  quite  as  much  share  in  the  government  of 
the  country,  though  indirectly,  as  the  magistrates  themselves; 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


29 


so  you  may  imagine    what  a  host  of  powerful  enemies  were 
raised  up  against  Mrs.  Hutchinson. 

"She  had   many  zealous  friends  and  converts,"  continued 
Grandfather,   "and  was  favored  by  young  Henry  Vane    who 


SIR   HENRY   VANE 

had  come  over  from  England  a  year  or  two  before,  and  had 
been  chosen  governor  of  the  colony.  But  Winthrop  and  most 
of  the  other  leading  men,  as  well  as  the  ministers,  felt  an 
abhorrence  of  her  doctrines.      Thus  two  opposite  parties  were 


30  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

formed;  and  so  fierce  were  the  dissensions  that  it  was  feared 
the  consequence  would  be  civil  war  and  bloodshed.  But  Win- 
throp  and  the  ministers  being  the  most  powerful,  they  dis- 
armed and  imprisoned  Mrs.  Hutchinson's  adherents.  She, 
like  Roger  Williams,  was  banished." 

"Dear  Grandfather,  did  they  drive  the  poor  woman  into  the 
woods?"  exclaimed  little  Alice,  who  contrived  to  feel  a 
humane  interest  even  in  these  discords  of  polemic  divinity. 

"They  did,  my  darling,"  replied  Grandfather;  "and  the  end 
of  her  life  was  so  sad  you  must  not  hear  it.  At  her  departure, 
it  appears,  from  the  best  authorities,  that  she  gave  the  great 
chair  to  her  friend  Henry  Vane.  He  was  a  young  man  of 
wonderful  talents  and  great  learning,  who  had  imbibed  the 
religious  opinions  of  the  Puritans,  and  left  England  with  the 
intention  of  spending  his  life  in  Massachusetts.  The  people 
chose  him  governor;  but  the  controversy  about  Mrs.  Hutchin- 
son, and  other  troubles,  caused  him  to  leave  the  country  in 
1637.  You  may  read  the  subsequent  events  of  his  life  and  his 
tragic  death  upon  the  scaffold  in  the  History  of  England." 

In  order  that  the  children  might  fully  understand  the  all- 
important  history  of  the  chair,  Grandfather  now  thought  fit  to 
speak  of  the  progress  that  was  made  in  settling  several  col- 
onies. The  settlement  of  Plymouth,  in  1620,  has  already  been 
mentioned.  In  1635  Hooker  and  Stowe,  two  ministers,  went 
on  foot  through  the  pathless  woods,  taking  their  whole  con- 
gregation along  with  them.  They  founded  the  town  of  Hart- 
ford. In  1638  Davenport,  a  noted  minister,  went  with  other 
people,  and  began  a  plantation  at  New  Haven.  In  the  same 
year,  some  persons  who  had  been  persecuted  in  Mass- 
achusetts went  to  the  Isle  of  Rhodes,  since  called  Rhode 
Island,  and  settled  there.  About  this  time,  also,  many 
settlers  had  gone  to  Maine,  and  were  living  without  any  reg- 
ular government.  There  were  likewise  settlers  near  Piscataqua 
River,  in  the  region  which  is  now  called  New  Hampshire. 

Thus,    at  various  points  along  the  coast  of  New  England, 


WINTHROP  AND  THE    INDIANS 


32 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


there  were  communities  of  Englishmen.  Though  these  com- 
munities were  independent  of  one  another,  yet  they  had  a 
common  dependence  upon  England;  and  at  so  vast  a  distance 
from  their  native  home,  the  inhabitants  must  all  have  felt  like 
brethren  They  were  fitted  to  become  one  united  people  at  a 
future  period.  Perhaps  their  feelings  of  brotherhood  were  the 
stronger  because  different  nations  had  formed  settlements  to 
the  north  and  to  the  south.  In  Canada  and  Nova  Scotia  were 
colonies  of  French.  On  the  banks  of  the  Hudson  River  was  a 
colony  of  Dutch,  who  had  taken  possession  of  that  region 
many  years  before  and  called  it  New  Netherlands. 


CHAPTER   V 


The  children  had  now  learned  to  look  upon  the  chair  with 
an  interest  which  was  almost  the  same  as  if  it  were  a  conscious 
being  and  could  remember  the  many  famous  people  whom  it 
had  held  within  its  arms.  Grandfather  was  importuned  for 
more  stories  about  the  chair.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  relating 
them-  for  it  really  seemed  as  if  every  person  noted  in  our 
early 'history  had,  on  some  occasion,  found  repose  within  its 
comfortable  arms.  If  Grandfather  took  pride  in  anything,  it 
was  in  being  the  possessor  of  such  an  historic  elbow-chair 

"I  know  not  precisely  who  next  got  possession  of  the  chair 
after  Governor  Vane  went  back  to  England,"  said  Grand- 
father "But  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  President  Dun- 
ster  sat  in  it,  when  he  held  the  first  Commencement  at  Har- 
vard College.  You  have  often  heard,  children,  how  careful 
our  forefathers  were  to  give  their  young  people  a  good  educa- 
tion They  had  scarcely  cut  down  trees  enough  to  make  room 
for  their  own  dwellings  before  they  began  to  think  of  establish- 
ing a  college.  Their  principal  object  was  to  rear  up  pious 
and  learned  ministers,  and  hence  old  writers  call  Harvard  Col- 
lege a  school  of  the  prophets." 


THE   PURITAN   AND   THE    SOLDIER 


8  Chair 


34  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

"Is  the  college  a  school  of  the  prophets  now?"  asked 
Charley. 

"It  is  a  long  while  since  I  took  my  degree,  Charley.  You 
must  ask  some  of  the  recent  graduates,"  answered  Grand- 
father. "As  I  was  telling  you,  President  Dunster  sat  in 
Grandfather's  chair  in  1642,  when  he  conferred  the  degree  of 
bachelor  of  arts  on  nine  young  men.  They  were  the  first  in 
America  who  had  received  that  honor.  And  now  I  must  con- 
fess that  there  is  some  uncertainty  about  the  adventures  of 
the  chair  for  almost  ten  years.  Some  say  it  was  occupied  by 
your  own  ancestor,  William  Hawthorne,  first  Speaker  of  the 
House  of  Representatives.  1  have  nearly  satisfied  myself 
that,  during  most  of  this  questionable  period,  it  was  literally 
the  Chair  of  State.  It  gives  me  much  pleasure  to  imagine 
that  several  successive  governors  of  Massachusetts  sat  in  it  at 
the  council  board." 

"But,  Grandfather,"  interposed  Charley,  "what  reason 
have  you  to  imagine  so?" 

"Pray  do  imagine  it,  Grandfather,"  said  Laurence.  "With 
Charley's  permission,  I  will,"  replied  Grandfather,  smiling. 
"Let  us  consider  it  settled,  therefore,  that  Winthrop,  Belling- 
ham,  Dudley,  and  Endicott,  each  of  them,  when  chosen  gov- 
ernor, took  his  seat  in  our  great  chair  on  election  day." 

And  here  Grandfather  took  occasion  to  talk  rather  tediously 
about  the  nature  and  forms  of  government  that  established 
themselves,  almost  spontaneously,  in  Massachusetts  and  the 
other  New  England  colonies. 

"But,  Laurence,"  continued  Grandfather,  "when  you  want 
instruction  on  these  points,  you  must  seek  it  in  Bancroft's 
History.  I  am  merely  telling  the  history  of  the  chair.  To 
proceed.  The  period  during  which  the  governors  sat  in  our 
chair  was  not  very  full  of  striking  incidents.  The  province 
was  now  established  on  a  secure  foundation;  but  it  did  not 
increase  so  rapidly  as  at  first,  because  the  Puritans  were  no 
longer  driven  from  England  by  persecution.      However,  there 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  35 

was  still  a  quiet  and  natural  growth.  The  legislature  incor- 
porated towns,  and  made  new  purchases  of  land  from  the 
Indians.  A  very  memorable  event  took  place  in  1643.  The 
colonies  of  Massachusetts,  Plymouth,  Connecticut,  and  New 
Haven  formed  a  union  for  the  purpose  of  assisting  each  other 
in  difficulties,  for  mutual  defense  against  their  enemies.  They 
called  themselves  the  United  Colonies  of  New  England." 

"Were  they  under  a  government  like  that  of  the  United 
States?"  inquired  Laurence.  "No,"  replied  Grandfather; 
"the  different  colonies  did  not  compose  one  nation  together;  it 
was  merely  a  confederacy  among  the  governments.  But  to 
return  to  our  chair.  In  1644  it  was  highly  honored;  for  Gov- 
ernor Endicott  sat  in  it  when  he  gave  audience  to  an  ambas- 
sador from  the  French  governor  of  Acadia,  or  Nova  Scotia. 
A  treaty  of  peace  between  Massachusetts  and  the  French 
colony  was  then  signed." 

"Did  England  allow  Massachusetts  to  make  war  and  peace 
with  foreign  countries?"  asked  Laurence. 

"Massachusetts  and  the  whole  of  New  England  was  then 
almost  independent  of  the  mother  country,"  said  Grandfather. 
"There  was  now  a  civil  war  in  England;  and  the  king  had  his 
hands  full  at  home,  and  could  pay  but  little  attention  to  these 
remote  colomes.  When  the  Parliament  got  the  power  into 
their  hands,  they  likewise  had  enough  to  do  in  keeping  down 
the  Cavaliers.  Thus  New  England,  like  a  young  and  hearty 
lad  whose  father  and  mother  neglect  it,  was  left  to  take  care 
of  itself.  In  1649  King  Charles  was  beheaded.  Oliver  Crom- 
well then  became  Protector  of  England;  and  as  he  was  a  Pur- 
itan himself,  and  had  risen  by  the  valor  of  the  English  Puri- 
tans, he  showed  himself  a  loving  and  indulgent  father  to  the 
Puritan  colonists  in  America." 


36  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


CHAPTER    VI 

"According  to  authentic  records,  my  dear  children,"  said 
Grandfather,  "the  chair,  about  this  time,  had  the  misfortune 
to  break  its  leg.  It  was  probably  on  account  of  this  accident 
that  it  ceased  to  be  the  seat  of  the  governors  of  Massachusetts; 
for,  assuredly,  it  would  have  been  ominous  of  evil  to  the  com- 
monwealth if  the  Chair  of  State  nad  tottered  upon  three  legs. 
Being  sold  at  auction,  it  was  knocked  down  to  a  certain  Cap- 
tain John  Hull.  The  old  gentleman,  on  examining  the 
maimed  chair,  discovered  that  its  broken  leg  might  be  clamped 
with  iron  and  made  as  serviceable  as  ever." 

"Here  is  the  very  leg  that  was  broken!"  exclaimed  Charley, 
throwing  himself  down  on  the  floor  to  look  at  it.  "And  here 
are  the  iron  clamps.      How  well  it  is  mended!" 

When  they  had  sufficiently  examined  the  broken  leg,  Grand- 
father told  them  a  story  about  Captain  John  Hull  and 

THE    PINE-TREE    SHILLINGS 

Captain  John  Hull  was  the  mint-master  of  Massachusetts, 
and  coined  all  the  money  that  was  made  there.  This  was  a 
new  line  of  business;  for,  in  the  earlier  days  of  the  colony,  the 
current  coinage  consisted  of  gold  and  silver  money  of  Eng- 
land, Portugal,  and  Spain.  These  coins  being  scarce,  the 
people  were  often  forced  to  barter  their  commodities  instead 
of  selling  them. 

For  instance,  if  a  man  wanted  to  buy  a  coat,  he  perhaps 
exchanged  a  bear-skin  for  it.  If  he  wished  for  a  barrel  of 
molasses,  he  might  purchase  it  with  a  pile  of  pine  boards. 
Musket-balls  were  used  instead  of  farthings.  The  Indians  had 
a  sort  of  money,  called  wampum,  which  was  made  of  clam- 
shells; and  this  strange  sort  of  specie  was  likewise  taken  in 


READING  THE  ROYAL  PROCLAMATION 


38  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

payment  of  debts  by  the  English  settlers.  Bank-bills  had 
never  been  heard  of.  There  was  not  money  enough  of  any 
kind,  in  many  parts  of  the  country,  to  pay  the  salaries  of  the 
ministers;  so  that  they  sometimes  had  to  take  quintals  of  fish, 
bushels  of  corn,  or  cords  of  wood,  instead  of  silver  or  gold. 

As  the  people  grew  more  numerous,  and  their  trade  one 
with  another  increased,  the  want  of  current  money  was  still 
more  sensibly  felt.  To  supply  the  demand,  the  general  court 
passed  a  law  for  establishing  a  coinage  of  shillings,  sixpence, 
and  threepence.  John  Hull  was  appointed  to  manufacture 
this  money,  and  was  to  have  one  shilling  out  of  every  twenty 
to  pay  him  for  the  trouble  of  making  them. 

Hereupon  all  the  old  silver  in  the  old  colony  was  handed 
over  to  Hull.  The  battered  silver  cans  and  tankards,  and  sil- 
ver buckles,  and  broken  spoons,  and  silver  buttons  of  worn- 
out  coats,  and  silver  hilts  of  swords  that  had  figured  at  court, 
all  such  curious  old  articles  were  doubtless  thrown  into  the 
melting-pot  together.  But  by  far  the  greater  part  of  the  silver 
consisted  of  bullion  from  the  mines  of  South  America,  which 
the  English  buccaneers  (who  were  little  better  than  pirates) 
had  taken  from  the  Spaniards,  and  brought  to  Massachusetts. 

All  this  old  and  new  silver  being  melted  down  and  coined, 
the  result  was  an  immense  amount  of  splendid  shillings,  six- 
pences, and  threepences.  Each  had  the  date,  1652,  on  the 
one  side,  and  the  figure  of  a  pine-tree  on  the  other.  Hence 
they  were  called  pine-tree  shillings.  And  for  every  twenty 
shillings  that  he  coined,  Hull  was  entitled  to  put  one  shilling 
into  his  own  pocket. 

The  magistrates  soon  began  to  suspect  that  the  mint-master 
would  have  the  best  of  the  bargain.  They  offered  him  a  large 
sum  of  money  if  he  would  but  give  up  that  twentieth  shilling 
which  he  was  continually  dropping  into  his  own  pocket.  But 
Hull  declared  himself  satisfied  with  the  shilling.  And  well 
he  might  be;  for  so  diligently  did  he  labor  that,  in  a  few 
years,  his  strong  box  was  overflowing  with  pine-tree  shillings. 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  39 

When  the  mint-master  had  grown  rich,  a  young  man,  Sam- 
uel Sewell  by  name,  came  a-courting  to  his  only  daughter. 
His  daughter — we  will  call  her  Betsey — was  a  fine,  hearty 
damsel,  by  no  means  so  slender  as  some  young  ladies  of  our 
own  days.  On  the  contrary,  having  always  fed  heartily  on 
pumpkin  pies,  doughnuts,  Indian  puddings,  and  other  Puritan 
dainties,  she  was  as  round  and  plump  as  a  pudding  herself. 
With  this  round,  rosy  Miss  Betsey  did  Samuel  Sewell  fall  in 
love.  As  he  was  a  young  man  of  good  character,  industrious 
in  his  business,  and  a  member  of  the  church,  the  mint-master 
readily  gave  his  consent. 

"Yes — you  may  take  her,"  said  he  in  his  rough  way,  "and 
you'll  find  her  a  heavy  burden  enough!" 

On  the  wedding  day,  John  Hull  dressed  himself  in  a  plum- 
colored  coat,  all  the  buttons  of  which  were  made  of  pine-tree 
shillings.  The  buttons  of  his  waistcoat  were  sixpences;  and 
the  knees  of  his  small-clothes  were  buttoned  with  silver  three- 
pences. Thus  attired,  he  sat  with  great  dignity  in  Grand- 
father's chair,  and  he  completely  filled  it  from  elbow  to  elbow. 
On  the  opposite  side  of  the  room,  between  her  bridesmaids, 
sat  Miss  Betsey,  blushing  with  all  her  might,  and  looking  like 
a  great  red  apple. 

There,  too,  was  the  bridegroom,  dressed  in  a  fine  purple 
coat  and  gold  lace  waistcoat,  with  as  much  other  finery  as  the 
Puritan  laws  and  customs  would  allow  him  to  put  on.  His 
hair  was  cropped  close  to  his  head,  because  Governor  Endicott 
had  forbidden  any  man  to  wear  it  below  the  ears.  But  he 
was  a  very  personable  young  man;  and  so  thought  the  brides- 
maids and  Betsey  herself. 

The  mint-master  was  pleased  with  his  new  son-in-law, 
especially  as  he  had  courted  Betsey  out  of  pure  love,  and  had 
said  nothing  at  all  about  her  portion.  So  when  the  marriage 
ceremony  was  over,  Hull  whispered  a  word  to  two  of  his  men 
servants,  who  went  out,  and  soon  returned,  lugging  in  a  large 
pair  of  scales.       They  were  such  a  pair  as  merchants  use  for 


40  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

weighing  bulky  commodities,  and  quite  a  bulky  commodity 
was  now  to  be  weighed  in  them. 

"Daughter  Betsey,"  said  the  mint-master,  "get  into  one 
side  of  these  scales." 

Miss  Betsey — or  Mrs.  Sewell,  as  we  must  now  call  her — 
did  as  she  was  bid,  like  a  dutiful  child,  without  any  question 
of  the  why  and  wherefore.  But  what  her  father  could  mean, 
unless  to  make  her  husband  pay  for  her  by  the  pound  (in 
which  case  she  would  have  been  a  dear  bargain),  she  had  not 
the  least  idea. 

"And  now,"  said  honest  John  Hull  to  the  servants,  "bring 
that  box  hither." 

The  box  to  which  the  mint-master  pointed  was  a  huge, 
square,  iron-bound,  oaken  chest.  The  servants  tugged  with 
might  and  main,  but  could  not  lift  this  enormous  receptacle, 
and  were  finally  obliged  to  drag  it  across  the  floor.  Hull  then 
took  a  key  from  his  girdle,  unlocked  the  chest,  and  lifted  its 
ponderous  lid.  Behold!  it  was  full  to  the  brim  of  bright  pine- 
tree  shillings,  fresh  from  the  mint;  and  Samuel  Sewell  began 
to  think  that  his  father-in-law  had  got  possession  of  all  the 
money  in  the  Massachusetts  treasury.  But  it  was  only  the 
mint-master's  honest  share  of  the  coinage. 

Then  the  servants,  at  Hull's  command,  heaped  double 
handfuls  of  shillings  into  one  side  of  the  scales,  while  Betsey 
remained  in  the  other.  Jingle,  jingle,  went  the  shillings,  as 
handful  after  handful  was  thrown  in,  till,  plump  and  pon- 
derous as  she  was,  they  fairly  weighed  the  young  lady  from 
the  floor.  "There,  son  Sewell!"  cried  the  honest  mint-mas- 
ter, resuming  his  seat  in  Grandfather's  chair.  "Take  these 
shillings  for  my  daughter's  portion.  Use  her  kindly,  and 
thank  Heaven  for  her.  It  is  not  every  wife  that's  worth  her 
weight  in  silver!" 

The  children  laughed  heartily  at  this  legend,  and  would 
hardly  be  convinced  but  that  Grandfather  had  made  it  out  of 
his  own  head.      He  assured  them  faithfully,  however,  that  he 


GEORGE    FOX,   THE   FIRST   QUAKER 


42  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

had  found  it  in  the  pages  of  a  grave  historian,  and  had  merely 
tried  to  tell  it  in  a  somewhat  funnier  style.  As  for  Samuel 
Sewell,  he  afterwards  became  Chief  Justice  of  Massachusetts. 
"Well,  Grandfather,"  remarked  Clara,  "if  wedding  portions 
nowadays  were  paid  as  Miss  Betsey's  was,  young  ladies  would 
not  pride  themselves  upon  an  airy  figure,  as  many  of  them  do. ' ' 


CHAPTER   VII 

When  his  little  audience  next  assembled  round  the  chair, 
Grandfather  gave  them  a  doleful  history  of  the  Quaker  perse- 
cution, which  began  in  1656,  and  raged  for  about  three  years 
in  Massachusetts. 

He  told  them  how,  in  the  first  place,  twelve  of  the  converts 
of  George  Fox,  the  first  Quaker  in  the  world,  had  come  over 
from  England.  They  seemed  to  be  impelled  by  an  earnest 
love  for  the  souls  of  men,  and  a  pure  desire  to  make  known 
what  they  considered  a  revelation  from  Heaven.  But  the 
rulers  looked  upon  them  as  plotting  the  downfall  of  the  gov- 
ernment and  religion.  They  were  banished  from  the  colony. 
In  a  little  while,  however,  not  only  the  first  twelve  had  returned, 
but  a  multitude  of  other  Quakers  had  come  to  rebuke  the 
rulers  and  to  preach  against  the  priests  and  steeple- houses. 

Grandfather  described  the  hatred  with  which  these  enthusi- 
asts were  received.  They  were  thrown  into  dungeons;  they 
were  beaten  with  many  stripes,  women  as  well  as  men;  they 
were  driven  forth  into  the  wilderness,  and  left  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  wild  beasts  and  Indians.  The  children  were 
amazed  to  hear  that  the  more  the  Quakers  were  scourged,  and 
imprisoned,  and  banished,  the  more  did  the  sect  increase, 
both  by  the  influx  of  strangers  and  by  converts  from  among 
the  Puritans.  But  Grandfather  told  them  that  God  had  put 
something  into  the  soul  of  man  which  always  turned  the  cruel- 
ties of  the  persecutor  to  nought. 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  43 

He  went  on  to  relate  that,  in  1659,  two  Quakers,  named 
William  Robinson  and  Marmaduke  Stephenson,  were  hanged 
at  Boston.  A  woman  had  been  sentenced  to  die  with  them, 
but  was  reprieved  on  condition  of  her  leaving  the  colony. 
Her  name  was  Mary  Dyer.  In  the  year  1660  she  returned  to 
Boston,  although  she  knew  death  awaited  her  there;  and,  if 
Grandfather  had  been  correctly  informed,  an  incident  had 
then  taken  place  which  connects  her  with  our  story.  This 
Mary  Dyer  had  entered  the  mint-master's  dwelling,  clothed 
in  sackcloth  and  ashes  and  seated  herself  in  our  great  chair  with 
a  sort  of  dignity  and  state.  Then  she  proceeded  to  deliver 
what  she  called  a  message  from  Heaven,  but  in  the  middle  of 
it  they  dragged  her  to  prison. 

"And  was  she  executed?"  asked  Laurence. 

"She  was,"  said  Grandfather. 

"Grandfather,"  cried  Charley,  clinching  his  fist,  "I  would 
have  fought  for  that  poor  Quaker  woman!" 

"Ah!  but  if  a  sword  had  been  drawn  for  her,"  said  Lau- 
rence, "it  would  have  taken  away  all  the  beauty  of  her  death.  " 

It  seems  as  if  hardly  any  of  the  preceding  stories  had  thrown 
such  an  interest  around  Grandfather's  chair  as  did  the  fact 
that  the  poor,  persecuted,  wandering  Quaker  woman  had 
rested  in  it  for  a  moment.  The  children  were  so  much  excited 
that  Grandfather  found  it  necessary  to  bring  his  account  of 
the  persecution  to  a  close. 

"In  1660,  the  same  year  in  which  Mary  D)rer  was  executed, " 
said  he,  "Charles  the  Second  was  restored  to  the  throne  of  his 
fathers.  This  king  had  many  vices;  but  he  would  not  permit 
blood  to  be  shed,  under  pretense  of  religion,  in  any  part  of 
his  dominions.  The  Quakers  in  England  told  him  what  had 
been  done  to  their  brethren  in  Massachusetts;  and  he  sent 
orders  to  Governor  Endicott  to  forbear  all  such  proceedings  in 
future.  And  so  ended  the  Quaker  persecution — one  of  the 
most  mournful  passages  in  the  history  of  our  forefathers." 

Grandfather  then  told  his  auditors  that,  shortly  after  the 


44  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

above  incident,  the  great  chair  had  been  given  by  the  mint- 
master  to  John  Eliot.  He  was  the  first  minister  of  Roxbury. 
Besides  attending  to  the  pastoral  duties  there,  he  learned  the 
language  of  the  red  men,  and  often  went  into  the  woods  to 
preach  to  them.  So  earnestly  did  he  labor  for  their  conver- 
sion that  he  has  always  been  called  the  Apostle  to  the  Indians. 
The  mention  of  this  holy  man  suggested  to  Grandfather  the 
propriety  of  giving  a  brief  sketch  of  the  history  of  the  Indians, 
so  far  as  they  were  connected  with  the  English  colonists. 

A  short  period  before  the  arrival  of  the  first  Pilgrims  at 
Plymouth,  there  had  been  a  very  grievous  plague  among  the 
red  men ;  and  the  sages  and  ministers  of  that  day  were  inclined 
to  the  opinion  that  Providence  had  sent  this  mortality  in  order 
to  make  room  for  the  settlement  of  the  English. 

In  many  places  the  English  found  the  wigwams  deserted  and 
the  corn-fields  growing  to  waste,  with  none  to  harvest  the 
grain.  In  1633,  and  the  year  afterwards,  the  smallpox  broke 
out  among  the  Massachusetts  Indians,  multitudes  of  whom 
died  by  this  terrible  disease  of  the  Old  World.  These  misfor- 
tunes made  them  far  less  powerful  than  they  had  formerly 
been. 

For  nearly  fifty  years  after  the  arrival  of  the  English  the  red 
men  showed  themselves  inclined  to  peace  and  amity.  They 
often  made  submission  when  they  might  have  made  successful 
war.  The  Plymouth  settlers,  led  by  the  famous  Miles  Stan- 
dish,  slew  some  of  them,  in  1623,  without  any  very  evident 
necessity  for  so  doing.  In  1636,  and  the  following  year,  there 
was  the  most  dreadful  war  that  had  yet  occurred  between  the 
Indians  and  the  English.  The  Connecticut  settlers,  assisted 
by  a  celebrated  Indian  chief  named  Uncas,  bore  the  brunt  of 
this  war,  with  but  little  aid  from  Massachusetts.  Many  hun- 
dreds of  the  hostile  Indians  were  slain  or  burned  in  their  wig- 
wams. Sassacus,  their  sachem,  fled  to  another  tribe,  after  his 
own  people  were  defeated;  but  he  was  murdered  by  them,  and 
his  head  was  sent  to  his  English  enemies. 


€tf£^  ^gj)) 


'j  -i   v- 


CONVERTING  THE   INDIANS 


46  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

From  that  period  down  to  the  time  of  King  Philip's  War, 
which  will  be  mentioned  hereafter,  there  was  not  much 
trouble  with  the  Indians.  But  the  colonists  were  always  on 
their  guard,  and  kept  their  weapons  ready  for  the  conflict. 

"I  have  sometimes  doubted,"  said  Grandfather,  when  he 
had  told  these  things  to  the  children,  "I  have  sometimes 
doubted  whether  there  was  more  than  a  single  man  among  our 
forefathers,  who  realized  that  an  Indian  possesses  a  mind,  and 
a  heart,  and  an  immortal  soul.  That  single  man  was  John 
Eliot.  All  the  rest  of  the  early  settlers  seemed  to  think  that 
the  Indians  were  an  inferior  race  of  beings,  whom  the  Creator 
had  merely  allowed  to  keep  possession  of  this  beautiful  coun- 
try till  the  white  men  should  be  in  want  of  it." 

"Did  the  pious  men  of  those  days  never  try  to  make  Chris- 
tians of  them?"  asked  Laurence. 

"Sometimes,"  answered  Grandfather,  "the  magistrates  and 
ministers  would  talk  about  civilizing  and  converting  the  red 
people.  But,  at  the  bottom  of  their  hearts,  they  would  have 
had  almost  as  much  expectation  of  civilizing  the  wild  bear  of 
the  woods  and  making  him  fit  for  paradise.  They  felt  no 
faith  in  the  success  of  any  such  attempts,  because  they  had  no 
love  for  the  poor  Indians.  Now,  Eliot  was  full  of  love  for 
them;  and  therefore  so  full  of  faith  and  hope,  that  he  spent 
the  labor  of  a  lifetime  in  their  behalf." 

"I  would  have  conquered  them  first,  and  then  converted 
them,"  said  Charley. 

"Ah,  Charley,  there  spoke  the  very  spirit  of  our  fore- 
fathers!" replied  Grandfather.  "But  Eliot  had  a  better 
spirit.  He  looked  upon  them  as  his  brethren.  He  persuaded 
as  many  of  them  as  he  could  to  leave  off  their  idle  and  wan- 
dering habits,  and  to  build  houses  and  cultivate  the  earth,  as 
the  English  did.  He  established  schools  among  them  and 
taught  many  of  the  Indians  how  to  read.  He  taught  them 
how  to  pray.  Hence  they  were  called  'praying  Indians.' 
Finally,  having  spent  the  best  years  of  his  life  for  their  good, 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  47 

Eliot  resolved  to  spend  the  remainder  in  doing  them  a  yet 
greater  benefit." 

"I  know  what  that  was!"  cried  Laurence. 

"He  sat  down  in  his  study,"  continued  Grandfather,  "and 
began  a  translation  of  the  Bible  into  the  Indian  tongue.  It 
was  while  he  was  engaged  in  this  pious  work  that  the  mint- 
master  gave  him  our  great  chair.  His  toil  needed  it,  and 
deserved  it." 

"O  Grandfather,  tell  us  all  about  that  Indian  Bible!" 
exclaimed  Laurence.  "I  have  seen  it  in  the  library  of  the 
Athenaeum ;  and  the  tears  came  into  my  eyes  to  think  that 
there  were  no  Indians  left  to  read  it." 


CHAPTER   VIII 

As  Grandfather  was  a  great  admirer  of  the  Apostle  Eliot, 
he  was  glad  to  comply  with  the  earnest  request  which  Lau- 
rence had  made  at  the  close  of  the  last  chapter.  So  he  pro- 
ceeded to  describe  how  the  good  Eliot  labored  while  he  was 
at  work  upon 

THE    INDIAN    BIBLE 

My  dear  children,  what  a  task  would  you  think  it,  even  with 
a  long  lifetime  before  you,  were  you  bidden  to  copy  every 
chapter,  and  verse,  and  word  in  yonder  family  Bible!  Would 
not  this  be  a  heavy  toil?  But  if  the  task  were,  not  to  write 
off  the  English  Bible,  but  to  learn  a  language  utterly  unlike 
all  other  tongues, — a  language  which  hitherto  had  never  been 
learned,  except  by  the  Indians  themselves,  from  their 
mothers'  lips, — a  language  never  written,  and  the  strange 
words  of  which  seemed  inexpressible  by  letters; — if  the  task 
were,  first  to  learn  this  new  variety  of  speech,  and  then  to 
translate  the  Bible  into  it,  and  to  do  it  so  carefully  that  not 
one  idea  throughout  the   whole   book   should  be  changed, — 


48  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

what  would  induce  you  to  undertake  this  toil?  Yet  this  was 
what  the  Apostle  Eliot  did. 

It  was  a  mighty  work  for  a  man,  now  growing  old,  'to  take 
upon  himself.  And  what  earthly  reward  could  he  expect 
from  it?  None;  no  reward  on  earth.  But  he  believed  that 
the  red  men  were  the  descendants  of  those  lost  tribes  of  Israel 
of  whom  history  has  been  able  to  tell  us  nothing  for  thousands 
of  years. 

Sometimes  he  was  visited  by  learned  men,  who  desired  to 
know  what  literary  undertaking  Eliot  had  in  hand.  Then 
would  the  apostle  call  to  him  an  Indian  boy,  one  of  his  scholars, 
and  show  him  the  manuscript  which  had  so  puzzled  the 
learned  Englishmen. 

"Read  this,  my  child,"  said  he;  "these  are  some  brethren 
of  mine,  who  would  fain  hear  the  sound  of  thy  native 
tongue." 

Then  would  the  Indian  boy  cast  his  eyes  over  the  mysteri- 
ous page,  and  read  it  so  skillfully  that  it  sounded  like  wild 
music.  It  seemed  as  if  the  forest  leaves  were  singing  in  the 
ears  of  his  auditors,  and  as  if  the  roar  of  distant  streams  were 
poured  through  the  young  Indian's  voice.  Such  were  the 
sounds  amid  which  the  language  of  the  red  men  had  been 
formed;  and  they  were  still  heard  to  echo  in  it. 

The  lesson  being  over,  Eliot  would  give  the  Indian  boy  an 
apple  or  a  cake,  and  bid  him  leap  forth  into  the  open  air 
which  his  free  nature  loved.  The  apostle  was  kind  to  chil- 
dren, and  even  shared  in  their  sports  sometimes.  And  when 
his  visitors  had  bidden  him  farewell,  the  good  man  turned 
patiently  to  his  toil  again. 

No  other  Englishman  had  ever  understood  the  Indian  char- 
acter so  well,  nor  possessed  so  great  an  influence  over  the 
New  England  tribes,  as  the  apostle  did.  His  advice  and 
assistance  must  often  have  been  valuable  to  his  countrymen, 
in  their  transactions  with  the  Indians.  He  dared  hardly  relax 
a  moment  from  his  toil  on  the  Eible.       He  felt   that,    in   the 


4Chair 


PURITANS    BEFORE   JAMES   I. 


50  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

book  which  he  was  translating,  there  was  a  deep  human  as 
well  as  heavenly  wisdom,  which  would  of  itself  suffice  to  civ- 
ilize and  refine  the  savage  tribes.  Let  the  Bible  be  diffused 
among  them,  and  all  earthly  good  would  follow. 

Impelled  by  such  thoughts  as  these,  he  sat  writing  in  tne 
great  chair  when  the  pleasant  summer  breeze  came  in 
through  his  open  casement;  and  also  when  the  fire  of  forest 
logs  sent  up  its  blaze  and  smoke,  through  the  broad  stone 
chimney,  into  the  wintry  air.  Before  the  earliest  bird  sang  in 
the  morning  the  apostle's  lamp  was  kindled;  and  at  midnight 
his  weary  head  was  not  yet  upon  its  pillow.  And  at  length, 
leaning  back  in  the  great  chair,  he  could  say  to  himself,  with 
a  holy  triumph,  "The  work  is  finished!" 

"My  heart  is  not  satisfied  to  think,"  observed  Laurence, 
"that  Eliot's  labors  have  done  no  good  except  to  a  few  Indians 
of  his  own  time.  Doubtless  he  would  not  have  regretted  his 
toil,  if  it  were  the  means  of  saving  but  a  single  soul.  But  it 
is  a  grievous  thing  to  me  that  he  should  have  toiled  so  hard  to 
translate  the  Bible,  and  now  the  language  and  the  people  are 
gone!  The  Indian  Bible  itself  is  almost  the  only  relic  of 
both." 

"Laurence,"  said  his  Grandfather,  "if  ever  you  should 
doubt  that  man  is  capable  of  disinterested  zeal  for  his 
brother's  good,  then  remember  how  the  Apostle  Eliot  toiled. 
And  if  you  should  feel  your  own  self-interest  pressing  upon 
your  heart  too  closely,  then  think  of  Eliot's  Indian  Bible.  It 
is  good  for  the  world  that  such  a  man  has  lived  and  left  this 
emblem  of  his  life." 

The  tears  gushed  into  the  eyes  of  Laurence,  and  he  acknowl- 
edged that  Eliot  had  not  toiled  in  vain.  Little  Alice  put  up 
her  arms  to  Grandfather,  and  drew  down  his  white  head  beside 
her  own  golden  locks.  "Grandfather,"  whispered  she,  "I 
want  to  kiss  good  Mr.  Eliot!"  And,  doubtless,  good  Mr. 
Eliot  would  gladly  receive  the  kiss  of  so  sweet  a  child  as  little 
Alice  and  would  think  it  a  portion  of  his  reward  in  Heaven. 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  51 

Grandfather  now  spoke  of  King  Philip's  War,  which  began 
in  1675,  and  terminated  with  the  death  of  King  Philip, -in  the 
following  year.  Philip  was  a  proud,  fierce  Indian,  whom 
Eliot  had  vainly  endeavored  to  convert  to  the  Christian 
faith. 

"It  must  have  been  a  great  anguish  to  the  apostle,"  con- 
tinued Grandfather,  "to  hear  of  mutual  slaughter  and  outrage 
between  his  own  countrymen  and  those  for  whom  he  felt  the 
affection  of  a  father.  A  few  of  the  praying  Indians  joined  the 
followers  of  King  Philip.  A  greater  number  fought  on  the  side 
of  the  English.  In  the  course  of  the  war  the  little  community 
of  red  people  whom  Eliot  had  begun  to  civilize  was  scattered, 
and  never  restored  to  a  flourishing  condition.  But  his  zeal 
did  not  grow  cold;  and  only  about  five  years  before  his  death 
he  took  great  pains  in  preparing  a  new  edition  of  the  Indian 
Bible." 

"I  do  wish,  Grandfather,"  cried  Charley,  "you  would  tell 
us  all  about  the  battles  in  King  Philip's  War." 

"Oh,  no!"  exclaimed  Clara.  "Who  wants  to  hear  about 
tomahawks  and  scalping-kniveb?" 

"No,  Charley,"  replied  Grandfather,  "I  have  no  time  to 
spare  in  talking  about  battles.  You  must  be  content  with 
knowing  that  it  was  the  bloodiest  war  that  the  Indians  had 
ever  waged  against  the  white  men;  and  that,  at  its  close,  the 
English  set  King  Philip's  head  upon  a  pole." 

"Who  was  the  captain  of  the  English?"  asked  Charley. 
"Their  most  noted  captain  was  Benjamin  Church, — a  very 
famous  warrior,"  said  Grandfather.  "But  I  assure  you, 
Charley,  that  neither  Captain  Church,  nor  any  of  the  officers 
and  soldiers  who  fought  in  King  Philip's  War,  did  anything 
a  thousandth  part  so  glorious  as  Eliot  did  when  he  translated 
the  Bible  for  the   Indians." 

"Let  Laurence  be  the  apostle,"  said  Charley  to  himself, 
"and  I  will  be  the  captain." 


52  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


CHAPTER    IX 

The  children  were  now  accustomed  toassembls  round  Grand- 
father's chair  at  all  their  unoccupied  moments;  and  often  it 
was  a  striking  picture  to  behold  the  white-headed  old  sire, 
with  his  flowery  wreath  of  young  people  around  him.  When 
he  talked  to  them,  it  was  the  past  speaking  to  the  present — or 
rather  to  the  future,  for  the  children  were  of  a  generation 
which  had  not  become  actual.  Their  part  in  life,  thus  far,  was 
only  to  be  happy  and  to  draw  knowledge  from  a  thousand 
sources.     As  yet,  it  was  not  their  time  to  do. 

So  Grandfather,  with  renewed  cheerfulness,  continued  his 
history  of  the  chair,  trusting  that  a  profounder  wisdom  than 
his  own  would  extract,  from  these  flowers  and  weeds  of  Time, 
a  fragrance  that  might  last  beyond  all  time. 

At  this  period  of  the  story  Grandfather  threw  a  glance  back- 
ward as  far  as  the  year  1660.  He  spoke  of  the  ill-concealed 
reluctance  with  which  the  Puritans  in  America  had  acknowl- 
edged the  sway  of  Charles  the  Second  on  his  restoration  to 
his  father's  throne.  When  death  had  stricken  Oliver  Crom- 
well, that  mighty  Protector  had  no  sincerer  mourners  than  in 
New  England.  The  new  king  had  been  more  than  a  year 
upon  the  throne  before  his  accession  was  proclaimed  in  Bos- 
ton; although  the  neglect  to  perform  the  ceremony  might 
have  subjected  the  rulers  to  the  charge  of  treason.  During 
the  reign  of  Charles  the  Second,  the  American  colonies  had 
but  little  reason  to  complain  of  tyrannical  treatment.  But 
when  Charles  died,  in  1685,  and  was  succeeded  by  his  brother 
James,  the  patriarchs  of  New  England  began  to  tremble. 
King  James  was  a  bigoted  Roman  Catholic,  and  was  known 
to   be   of  an  arbitrary   temper.      It  was  feared  by  all  Protes- 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


63 


tants,  and  chiefly  by  the  Puritans,  that  he  would  assume 
despotic  power  and  attempt  to  establish  Popery  throughout  his 
dominions.  Our  forefathers  felt  that  they  had  no  security 
either  for  their  religion  or  their  liberties. 


KING   CHARLES   II.   OF   ENGLAND 


The  result  proved  that  they  had  reason  for  their  apprehen- 
sions. King  James  caused  the  charters  of  all  the  American 
colonies  to  be  taken  away.  The  old  charter  of  Massachusetts, 
which  the  people  regarded  as  a  holy  thing  and  as  the  founda- 
tion of  all  their  liberties,  was  declared  void.       The  colonists 


54  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

were  now  no  longer  freemen ;  they  were  entirely  dependent 
on  the  king's  pleasure.  At  first,  in  1685,  King  James 
appointed  Joseph  Dudley,  a  native  of  Massachusetts,  to  be 
president  of  New  England.  But  soon  afterwards  Edmund 
Andros,  an  officer  of  the  English  army,  arrived,  with  a  com- 
mission to  be  governor-general  of  New  England  and  New 
York. 

The  king  had  given  such  powers  to  Andros  that  there  was 
now  no  liberty,  nor  scarcely  any  law,  in  the  colonies  over 
which  he  ruled.  The  inhabitants  were  not  allowed  to  choose 
representatives,  and  consequently  had  no  voice  whatever  in 
the  government,  nor  control  over  the  measures  that  were 
adopted.  The  counselors  with  whom  the  governor  consulted 
on  matters  of  state  were  appointed  by  himself. 

"The  people  suffered  much  wrong  while  Andros  ruled  over 
them,"  continued  Grandfather;  "and  they  were  apprehensive 
of  much  more.  He  had  brought  some  soldiers  with  him  from 
England,  who  took  possession  of  the  old  fortress  on  Castle 
Island  and  of  the  fortifications  on  Fort  Hill.  Sometimes  it 
was  rumored  that  a  general  massacre  of  the  inhabitants  was 
to  be  perpetrated  by  these  soldiers.  There  were  reports,  too, 
that  all  the  ministers  were  to  be  slain  or  imprisoned." 

"For  what?"  inquired  Charley. 

"Because  they  were  the  leaders  of  the  people,  Charley," 
said  Grandfather.  "A  minister  was  a  more  formidable  man 
than  a  general  in  those  days.  Well,  while  these  things  were 
going  on  in  America,  King  James  had  so  misgoverned  the 
people  of  England  that  they  sent  over  to  Holland  for  the 
Prince  of  Orange.  He  had  married  the  king's  daughter,  and 
was  therefore  considered  to  have  a  claim  to  the  crown.  On 
his  arrival  in  England,  the  Prince  of  Orange  was  proclaimed 
king,  by  the  name  of  William  the  Third.  Poor  old  King 
James  made  his  escape  to  France." 

Grandfather  told  how,  at  the  first  intelligence  of  the  landing 
of  the  Prince  of  Orange  in   England,   the  people  of   Massa- 


tf^/ryri  i>* 


JAMES  II.  PROCLAIMED,  IN  BOSTON 


56  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

chusetts  rose  in  their  strength  and  overthrew  the  Andros  gov- 
ernment.  He,  with  Joseph  Dudley,  Edmund  Randolph,  and 
his  other  principal  adherents,  was  thrown  into  prison.  Old 
Simon  Bradstreet,  who  had  been  governor  when  King  James 
took  away  the  charter,  was  called  by  the  people  to  govern 
them  again. 

"Governor  Bradstreet  was  a  venerable  old  man,  nearly 
ninety  years  of  age,"  said  Grandfather.  "He  came  over 
with  the  first  settlers,  and  had  been  the  intimate  companion 
of  all  those  excellent  and  famous  men  who  laid  the  foundation 
of  our  country.  They  were  all  gone  before  him  to  the  grave; 
and  Bradstreet  was  the  last  of  the  Puritans." 

Grandfather  paused  a  moment  and  smiled,  as  if  he  had 
something  very  interesting  to  tell  his  auditors.  He  then  pro- 
ceeded: "And  now,  Laurence — now,  Clara — now,  Charley 
— now,  my  dear  little  Alice — what  chair  do  you  think  had 
been  placed  in  the  council  chamber,  for  old  Governor  Brad- 
street to  take  his  seat  in?  Would  you  believe  that  it  was  this 
very  chair  in  which  Grandfather  now  sits,  and  of  which  he  is 
telling  you  the  history?" 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  with  all  my  heart!"  cried  Charley, 
after  a  shout  of  delight.  "I  thought  Grandfather  had  quite 
forgotten  the  chair." 

"It  was  a  solemn  and  affecting  sight,''  said  Grandfather, 
"when  this  venerable  patriarch  with  his  white  beard  flowing 
down  upon  his  breast,  took  his  seat  in  his  Chair  of  State. 
Within  his  remembrance,  and  even  since  his  mature  age,  the 
site  where  now  stood  the  populous  town  had  been  a  wild  and 
forest-covered  peninsula.  The  province,  now  so  fertile  and 
spotted  with  thriving  villages,  had  been  a  deserted  wilderness. 
He  was  surrounded  by  a  shouting  multitude,  most  of  whom 
had  been  born  in  the  country  which  he  had  helped  to  found! 
They  were  of  one  generation,  and  he  of  another.  As  the  old 
man  looked   upon  them,  and  beheld  new  faces  everywhere, 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


57 


he  must  have  felt  that  it  was  now  time  for  him  to  go  whither 
his  brethren  had  gone  before  him." 


SIR    EDMUND    ANDROS 


"Were   the  former  governors  all  dead  and  gone?"  asked 
Laurence, 


58  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

"All  of  them,"  replied  Grandfather.  "Winthrop  had  been 
dead  forty  years.  Endicott  died,  a  very  old  man,  in  1665. 
Vane  was  beheaded  in  London.  And  Haynes,  Dudley,  Bel- 
lingham,  and  Leverett,  who  had  all  been  governors  of  Massa- 
chusetts, were  now  likewise  in  their  graves.  Old  Simon 
Bradstreet  was  the  sole  representative  of  that  departed  brother- 
hood. There  was  no  other  public  man  remaining  to  connect 
the  ancient  system  of  government  and  manners  with  the  new 
system  which  was  about  to  take  its  place.  The  era  of  the 
Puritans  was  now  completed." 

"I  am  sorry  for  it,"  observed  Laurence,  "for,  though  they 
were  so  stern,  yet  it  seems  to  me  that  there  was  something 
warm  and  real  about  them.  I  think,  Grandfather,  that  each 
of  these  old  governors  should  have  his  statue  set  up  in  our 
State  House,  sculptured  out  of  the  hardest  of  New  England 
granite." 

"It  would  not  be  amiss,  Laurence,"  said  Grandfather;  "but 
perhaps  clay,  or  some  other  perishable  material,  might  suffice 
for  some  of  their  successors.  But  let  us  go  back  to  our  chair. 
It  was  occupied  by  Governor  Bradstreet  from  April,  1689, 
until  May,  1692.  William  Phips  then  arrived  in  Boston  with 
a  new  charter  from  King  William  and  a  commission  to  be 
governor." 


CHAPTER   X 

"And  what  became  of  the  chair?"  inquired  Clara.  "The 
outward  aspect  of  our  chair,"  replied  Grandfather,  "was  now 
somewhat  the  worse  for  its  long  and  arduous  services.  It  was 
considered  hardly  magnificent  enough  to  be  allowed  to  keep 
its  place  in  the  council  chamber  of  Massachusetts.  In  fact,  it 
was  banished  as  an  article  of  useless  lumber.  But  the  gov- 
ernor happened  to  see  it,  and,  being  much  pleased  with  its 
construction,  resolved  to  take  the  good  old  chair  into  his  private 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  59 

mansion.  Accordingly,  with  his  own  hands,  he  repaired  one 
of  its'arms,  which  had  been  slightly  damaged." 

"Why,  Grandfather,  here  is  the  very  arm!"  interrupted 
Charley,  in  great  wonderment.  -'And  did  William  Phips  put 
in  these  screws  with  his  own  hands?  I  am  sure  he  did  it 
beautifully!  But  how  came  a  governor  to  know  how  to  mend 
a  chair?" 

"I  will  tell  you  a  story  about  the  early  life  of  William  Phips," 
said  Grandfather.  "You  will  then  perceive  that  he  well  knew 
how  to  use  his  hands."  So  Grandfather  related  the  wonder- 
ful and  true  tale  of 

THE   SUNKEN   TREASURE 

Picture  to  yourselves  a  handsome,  old-fashioned  room,  with 
a  large,  open  cupboard  at  one  end,  in  which  is  displayed  a 
magnificent  gold  cup,  with  some  other  splendid  articles  of  gold 
and  silver  plate.  In  another  part  of  the  room,  opposite  to  a 
tall  looking-glass,  stands  our  beloved  chair,  newly  polished, 
and  adorned  with  a  gorgeous  cushion  of  crimson  velvet,  tufted 
with  gold. 

In  the  chair  sits  a  man  of  strong  and  sturdy  frame,  whose 
face  has  been  roughened  by  northern  tempests  and  blackened 
by  the  burning  sun  of  the  West  Indies.  He  wears  an  immense 
periwig,  flowing  down  over  his  shoulders.  His  coat  has  a  wide 
embroidery  of  golden  foliage;  and  his  waistcoat,  likewise,  is  all 
flowered  over  and  bedizened  with  gold.  His  red,  rough 
hands,  which  have  done  many  a  good  day's  work  with  the 
hammer  and  adze,  are  half  covered  by  the  delicate  lace  ruffles 
at  his  wrists.  On  a  table  lies  his  silver-hilted  sword;  and  in 
the  corner  of  the  room  stands  his  gold-headed  cane,  made  of 
a  beautifully  polished  West  India  wood.  Somewhat  such  an 
aspect  as  this  did  Phips  present  when  he  sat  in  Grandfather's 
chair  after  the  king  had  appointed  him  governor  of  Massa- 
chusetts. 

But  Sir  William  Phips  had  not  always  worn  a  gold-embroid- 


60  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

ered  coat,  nor  always  sat  so  much  at  his  ease  as  he  did  in 
Grandfather's  chair.  He  was  a  poor  man's  son,  and  was  born 
in  the  province  of  Maine,  where  in  his  boyhood  and  youth  he 
used  to  tend  sheep  upon  the  hills.  Until  he  had  grown  to  be 
a  man,  he  did  not  even  know  how  to  read  and  write.  Tired 
of  tending  sheep,  he  apprenticed  himself  to  a  ship-carpenter, 
and  spent  about  four  years  in  hewing  the  crooked  limbs  of  oak 
trees  into  knees  for  vessels. 

In  1673,  when  he  was  twenty-two  years  old,  he  came  to 
Boston,  and  soon  afterwards  was  married  to  a  widow  lady, 
who  had  property  enough  to  set  him  up  in  business.  It  was 
not  long  before  he  lost  all  the  money  that  he  had  acquired  by 
his  marriage,  and  became  a  poor  man  again.  Still,  he  was  not 
discouraged.  He  often  told  his  wife  that  he  should  be  very 
rich,  and  would  build  a  "fair  brick  house"  in  the  Green  Lane 
of  Boston. 

Several  years  passed  away;  and  Phips  had  not  yet  gained 
the  riches  which  he  promised  to  himself.  During  this  time  he 
had  begun  to  follow  the  sea  for  a  living.  In  the  year  1684  he 
happened  to  hear  of  a  Spanish  ship  which  had  been  cast  away 
near  Porto  de  la  Plata.  She  had  now  lain  for  fifty  years 
beneath  the  waves.  This  old  ship  had  been  laden  with 
immense  wealth;  and  nobody  had  thought  of  the  possibility  of 
recovering  any  part  of  it  from  the  deep  sea  which  was  rolling 
and  tossing  it  about.  But  though  it  was  now  an  old  story, 
Phips  resolved  that  the  sunken  treasure  should  again  be 
brought  to  light. 

He  went  to  London  and  obtained  admittance  to  King 
James,  who  had  not  yet  been  driven  from  his  throne.  He 
told  the  king  of  the  vast  wealth  that  was  lying  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea.  King  James  listened  with  attention,  and  thought 
this  a  fine  opportunity  to  fill  his  treasury  with  Spanish  gold. 
He  appointed  William  Phips  to  be  captain  of  a  vessel,  called 
the  Rose  Algier,  carrying  eighteen  guns  and  ninety-five  men. 
So  now  he  was  Captain  Phips  of  the  English  navy. 


WILLIAM    III.,    PRINCE   OF   ORANGE 


62  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

Captain  Phips  sailed  from  England  and  cruised  for  two  years 
in  the  West  Indies,  trying  to  find  the  wrecked  Spanish  ship. 
But  the  sea  is  so  wide  and  deep  that  it  is  no  easy  matter  to 
discover  the  exact  spot  where  a  sunken  vessel  lies.  The 
prospect  of  success  seemed  very  small,  and  most  people 
thought  that  Phips  was  as  far  from  having  money  enough  to 
build  a  "fair  brick  house"  as  he  was  while  he  tended  sheep. 

The  seamen  became  discouraged,  and  gave  up  all  hope  of 
making  their  fortunes  by  discovering  the  Spanish  wreck. 
They  wanted  Phips  to  turn  pirate.  There  was  a  much  better 
prospect  of  growing  rich  by  plundering  vessels  which  still 
sailed  in  the  sea  than  by  seeking  for  a  ship  that  had  lain 
beneath  the  waves  full  half  a  century.  They  broke  out  in 
open  mutiny,  but  were  finally  mastered  by  Phips,  and  com- 
pelled to  obey  his  orders.  It  would  have  been  dangerous  to 
continue  much  longer  at  sea  with  such  a  crew  of  mutinous 
sailors;  and  the  ship  was  unseaworthy.  So  Phips  judged  it 
best  to  return  to  England. 

Before  leaving  the  West  Indies,  he  met  with  an  old  Spaniard 
who  remembered  the  wreck  of  the  Spanish  ship,  and  gave 
him  directions  how  to  find  the  very  spot.  It  was  on  a  reef 
of  rocks,  a  few  leagues  from  Porto  de  la  Plata. 

On  his  arrival  in  England,  Phips  solicited  the  king  to  let 
him  have  another  vessel  and  send  him  back  again  to  the  West 
Indies.  But  King  James  refused  to  have  anything  more  to 
do  with  the  affair.  Phips  might  never  have  been  able  to 
renew  the  search  if  the  Duke  of  Albemarle  and  some  other 
noblemen  had  not  lent  their  assistance.  They  fitted  out  a 
ship,  and  he  sailed  from  England,  and  arrived  safely  at  La 
Plata,  where  he  took  an  adze  and  assisted  his  men  to  build  a 
large  boat. 

The  boat  was  intended  for  going  closer  to  the  rocks  than  a 
la/ge  vessel  could  safely  venture.  When  it  was  finished,  the 
captain  sent  several  men  in  it  to  examine  the  spot  where  the 
Spanish   ship   was  said   to  have  been  wrecked.       They  were 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  63 

accompanied  by  some  Indians,  who  were  skillful  divers,  and 
could  go  down  a  great  way  into  the  depths  of  the  sea. 

The  boat's  crew  proceeded  to  the  reef  of  rocks,  and  gazed 
down  into  the  transparent  water.  Nothing  could  they  see 
more  valuable  than  a  curious  sea  shrub  growing  beneath  the 
water,  in  a  crevice  of  the  reef  of  rocks.  It  flaunted  to  and 
fro  with  the  swell  and  reflux  of  the  waves,  and  looked  as 
bright  and  beautiful  as  if  its  leaves  were  gold. 

"We  won't  go  back  empty-handed,"  cried  an  English  sailor; 
and  then  he  spoke  to  one  of  the  Indian  divers.  "Dive  down 
and  bring  me  that  pretty  sea  shrub  there.  That's  the  only 
treasure  we  shall  find!" 

Down  plunged  the  diver,  and  soon  rose  dripping  from  the 
water,  holding  the  sea  shrub  in  his  hand.  But  he  had  learned 
some  news  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  "There  are  some  ship's 
guns,"  said  he,  the  moment  he  had  drawn  breath,  "some 
great  cannon,  among  the  rocks,  near  where  the  shrub  was 
growing." 

No  sooner  had  he  spoken  than  the  English  sailors  knew  that 
they  had  found  the  spot  where  the  Spanish  galleon  had  been 
wrecked,  so  many  years  before.  The  other  Indian  divers 
plunged  over  the  boat's  side  and  swam  headlong  down,  grop- 
ing among  the  rocks  and  sunken  cannon.  In  a  few  moments 
one  of  them  rose  above  the  water  with  a  heavy  lump  of  silver 
in  his  arms.  That  single  lump  was  worth  more  than  a  thou- 
sand dollars.  The  sailors  took  it  into  the  boat,  and  then 
rowed  back  as  speedily  as  they  could,  being  in  haste  to  inform 
Captain  Phips  of  their  good  luck. 

But,  confidently  as  the  Captain  had  hoped  to  find  the  Span- 
ish wreck,  yet,  now  that  it  was  really  found,  the  news  seemed 
too  good  to  be  true.  He  could  not  believe  it  till  the  sailors 
showed  him  the  lump  of  silver.  "Thanks  be  to  God!"  then 
cries  Phips.     "We  shall  every  man  of  us  make  our  fortunes!" 

Hereupon  the  captain  and  all  the  crew  set  to  work,  with 
iron  rakes  and  great  hooks  and  lines,  fishing  for  gold  and  sil- 


64  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

ver  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  Up  came  the  treasures  in  abun- 
dance. Now  they  beheld  a  table  of  solid  silver,  once  the 
property  of  an  old  Spanish  Grandee.  Now  they  found  a  sac- 
ramental vessel,  which  had  been  destined  as  a  gift  to  some 
Catholic  church.  Now  they  drew  up  a  golden  cup,  fit  for  the 
king  of  Spain  to  drink  his  wine  out  of.  Now  their  rakes  were 
loaded  with  the  masses  of  silver  bullion.  There  were  also 
precious  stones  among  the  treasure,  glittering  and  sparkling, 
so  that  it  is  a  wonder  how  their  radiance  could  have  been 
concealed. 

After  a  day  or  two  they  lighted  on  another  part  of  the 
wreck  where  they  found  a  great  many  bags  of  silver  dollars. 
But  nobody  could  have  guessed  that  these  were  money-bags. 
By  remaining  so  long  in  the  salt-water,  they  had  become  cov- 
ered over  with  a  crust  which  had  the  appearance  of  stone,  so 
that  it  was  necessary  to  break  them  in  pieces  with  hammers 
and  axes.  When  this  was  done,  a  stream  of  silver  dollars 
gushed  out  upon  the  deck  of  the  vessel. 

The  whole  value  of  the  recovered  treasure,  plate,  bullion, 
precious  stones,  and  all,  was  estimated  at  more  than  two  mil- 
lions of  dollars.  It  was  dangerous  even  to  look  at  such  a  vast 
amount  of  wealth.  A  captain,  who  had  assisted  Phips  in  the 
enterprise,  lost  his  reason  at  the  sight  of  it.  He  died  two 
years  afterward,  still  raving  about  the  treasures  that  lie  at  the 
bottom  of  the  sea. 

Phips  and  his  men  continued  to  fish  up  plate,  bullion,  and 
dollars,  as  plentifully  as  ever  till  their  provisions  grew  short. 
Then,  as  they  could  not  feed  upon  gold  and  silver  any  more 
than  old  King  Midas  could,  they  found  it  necessary  to  go  in 
search  of  better  sustenance.  Phips  returned  to  England, 
arriving  there  in  16S7,  and  was  received  with  great  joy  by  the 
Albemarles  and  other  English  lords  who  had  fitted  out  the 
vessel.  Well  they  might  rejoice;  for  they  took  the  greater 
part  of  the  treasures  to  themselves. 

The  captain's  share,    however,    was  enough   to  make  him 


5  Chair 


66  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

comfortable  for  the  rest  of  his  days.  It  also  enabled  him  to 
fulfill  his  promise  to  his  wife,  by  building  a  "fair  brick  house" 
in  the  Green  Lane  of  Boston.  The  Duke  of  Albemarle  sent 
Mrs.  Phips  a  magnificent  gold  cup,  worth  at  least  five  thousand 
dollars.  Before  Captain  Phips  left  London,  King  James  made 
him  a  knight;  so  that,  instead  of  the  obscure  ship-carpenter 
who  had  formerly  dwelt  among  them,  the  inhabitants  of  Bos- 
ton welcomed  him  on  his  return  as  the  rich  and  famous  Sir 
William  Phips. 

CHAPTER    XI 

"Phips,"  continued  Grandfather,  "was  too  active  and 
adventurous  a  man  to  sit  still  in  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  his 
good  fortune.  In  the  year  1690  he  went  on  a  military  expedi- 
tion against  the  French  colonies  in  America,  conquered  the 
whole  province  of  Acadia,  and  returned  to  Boston  with  a  great 
deal  of  plunder." 

"Why,  Grandfather,  he  was  the  greatest  man  that  ever  sat 
in  the  chair!"  cried  Charley. 

"Ask  Laurence  what  he  thinks,"  replied  Grandfather,  with 
a  smile.  "Well,  in  the  same  year,  Phips  took  command  of  an 
expedition  against  Quebec,  but  did  not  succeed  in  capturing 
the  city.  In  1692,  being  then  in  London,  King  William  the 
Third  appointed  him  governor  of  Massachusetts.  And  now, 
having  followed  Phips  through  all  his  adventures  and  hard- 
ships till  we  find  him  comfortably  seated  in  Grandfather's 
chair,  we  will  here  bid  him  farewell.  May  he  be  as  happy  in 
ruling  a  people  as  he  was  while  he  tended  sheep!" 

Good  old  Grandfather  now  rose  and  quitted  the  room,  while 
the  children  remained  gazing  at  the  chair.  Laurence,  so 
vivid  was  his  conception  of  past  times,  would  hardly  have 
deemed  it  strange  if  its  former  occupants,  one  after  another, 
had  resumed  the  seat  which  they  had  each  left  vacant  such  a 
dim  length  of  years  ago. 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  67 

First,  the  gentle  and  lovely  Lady  Arbella  would  have  been 
seen  in  the  old  chair,  almost  sinking  out  of  its  arms  from  very 
weakness;  then  Roger  Williams,  in  his  cloak  and  band,  ear- 
nest, energetic,  and  benevolent;  then  the  figure  of  Anne 
Hutchinson,  with  the  like  gesture  as  when  she  presided  at  the 
assemblage  of  women;  then  the  dark,  intellectual  face  of 
Vane,  "young  in  years,  but  in  sage  counsel  old."  Next  would 
have  appeared  the  successive  governors,  Winthrop,  Dudley, 
Bellingham,  and  Endicott,  who  sat  in  the  chair  while  it  was  a 
Chair  of  State.  Then  its  ample  seat  would  have  been  pressed 
by  the  comfortable,  rotund  corporation  of  the  honest  mint- 
master.  Then  the  half-frenzied  shape  of  Mary  Dyer,  the  per- 
secuted Quaker  woman,  clad  in  sackcloth  and  ashes,  would 
have  rested  in  it  for  a  moment.  Then  the  holy  apostolic  form 
of  Eliot  would  have  sanctified  it.  Then  would  have  arisen, 
like  the  shade  of  departed  Puritanism,  the  venerable  dignity 
of  the  white-bearded  Governor  Bradstreet.  Lastly,  on  the 
gorgeous  crimson  cushion  of  Grandfather's  chair,  would  have 
shone  the  purple  and  golden  magnificence  of  Sir  William  Phips. 

But,  all  these,  with  the  other  historic  personages,  among 
whom  the  chair  had  so  often  stood,  had  passed,  both  in  sub- 
stance and  shadow,  from  the  scene  of  ages!  Yet  here  stood 
the  chair,  with  the  old  Lincoln  coat-of-arms,  and  the  oaken 
flowers  and  foliage,  and  the  fierce  lion's  head  at  the  summit, 
the  whole,  apparently,  in  as  perfect  preservation  as  when  it 
had  first  been  placed  in  the  Earl  of  Lincoln's  hall.  And  what 
vast  changes  of  society  and  of  nations  had  been  wrought  by 
sudden  convulsions  or  by  slow  degrees  since  that  era!  "This 
chair  had  stood  firm  when  the  thrones  of  kings  had  over- 
turned!" thought  Laurence.  "Its  oaken  frame  has  proved 
stronger  than  many  frames  of  government!" 


Famous  Old  People 

THE  SECOND  EPOCH  OF  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


CHAPTER   I 

"You  recollect,"  said  Grandfather,  "that  we  took  leave  of 
the  chair  in  1692,  while  it  was  occupied  by  Sir  William  Phips. 
This  fortunate  treasure-seeker,  you  will  remember,  had  come 
over  from  England,  with  King  William's  commission,  to  be 
governor  of  Massachusetts.  Within  the  limits  of  this  province 
were  now  included  the  old  colony  of  Plymouth  and  the  terri- 
tories of  Maine  and  Nova  Scotia.  Phips  had  likewise  brought 
a  new  charter  from  the  king,  which  served  instead  of  a  con- 
stitution, and  set  forth  the  method  in  which  the  province  was 
to  be  governed." 

"Did  the  new  charter  allow  the  people  all  their  former  lib- 
erties?" inquired  Laurence. 

"No,"  replied  Grandfather.  "Under  the  first  charter,  the 
people  had  been  the  source  of  all  power.  Winthrop,  Endicott, 
Bradstreet,  and  the  rest  of  them,  had  been  governors  by  the 
choice  of  the  people,  without  any  interference  of  the  king. 
But  while  the  people  were  still  allowed  to  choose  representa- 
tives, the  governor's  council  was  chosen  by  the  general  court.  " 

"Would  the  inhabitants  have  elected  Phips,"  asked  Lau- 
rence, "if  the  choice  of  governor  had  been  left  to  them?" 

"He  might  probably  have  been  a  successful  candidate," 
answered  Grandfather;  "for  he  had  many  popular  character- 
istics, being  a  kind,  warm-hearted  man,  not  ashamed  of  his 
low  origin  nor  haughty  in  his  present  elevation.       Soon  after 

68 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


69 


his  arrival,  he  proved  that  he  did  not  blush  to  recognize  his 
former  associates." 

"How  was  that?"  inquired  Charley. 


COTTON    MATHER 


"He  made  a  grand  festival  at  his  new  brick  house,"  said 
Grandfather,  "and  invited  all  the  ship-carpenters  of  Boston  to 
be  his  guests.      At  the  head  of  the  table,  in  our  great  chair, 


70  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

sat  Sir  William  Phips  himself,  treating  these  hard-handed  men 
as  his  brethren,  cracking  jokes  with  them,  and  talking  famil- 
iarly about  old   times." 

"An  aristocrat  need  not  be  ashamed  of  the  trade,"  said 
Laurence;  "for  the  Czar,  Peter  the  Great,  of  Russia,  once 
served  an  apprenticeship  to  it.  " 

"Did  Phips  make  as  good  a  governor  as  he  was  a  ship-car- 
penter?" asked  Charley. 

"History  says  but  little  about  his  merits  as  a  ship-carpen- 
ter,"  answered  Grandfather;  "but,  as  a  governor,  a  great 
deal  of  fault  was  found  with  him.  Almost  as  soon  as  he 
assumed  the  government,  he  became  engaged  in  the  witch- 
craft delusion. " 

And  here  Grandfather  gave  his  auditors  such  details  of  this 
melancholy  affair  as  he  thought  fit  for  them  to  know.  They 
shuddered  to  hear  that  frenzy,  which  led  to  the  death  of  many 
innocent  persons,  had  originated  in  the  wicked  arts  of  a  few 
children.  They  belonged  to  the  Rev.  Mr.  Parris,  minister  of 
Salem.  These  children  complained  of  being  pinched  and 
pricked  with  pins,  and  otherwise  tormented  by  the  shapes  of 
men  and  women,  who  were  supposed  to  have  power  to  haunt 
them  invisibly,  both  in  darkness  and  daylight.  Often  in  the 
middle  of  their  family  and  friends  the  children  would  pretend 
to  be  seized  with  strange  convulsions,  and  would  cry  out  that 
the  witches  were  afflicting  them. 

These  stories  spread  abroad,  and  caused  great  tumult  and 
alarm.  From  the  foundation  of  New  England,  it  had  been 
the  custom  of  the  inhabitants,  in  all  matters  of  doubt  and 
difficulty,  to  look  to  their  ministers  for  counsel.  So  they  did 
now;  but,  unfortunately,  the  ministers  and  the  wise  men 
were  more  deluded  than  the  illiterate  people.  Cotton  Mather, 
a  very  learned  clergyman,  believed  that  the  whole  country 
was  full  of  witches  who  had  given  up  their  hopes  of  Heaven, 
and  signed  a  covenant  with  the  Evil  One. 

The  number  of  those  who  pretended  to  be  afflicted  by  witch. 


72  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

craft  grew  daily  more  numerous;  and  they  bore  testimony 
against  many  of  the  worthiest  people.  A  minister,  named 
George  Burroughs,  was  among  the  accused.  In  the  months 
of  August  and  September,  1 692,  he  and  nineteen  other  innocent 
men  and  women  were  put  to  death.  The  place  of  execution 
was  a  high  hill  on  the  outskirts  of  Salem;  so  that  many  of  the 
sufferers,  as  they  stood  beneath  the  gallows,  could  discern 
their  own  habitations  in  the  town. 

The  martyrdom  of  these  guiltless  persons  seemed  only  to 
increase  the  madness.  The  afflicted  now  grew  bolder  in  their 
accusations.  Many  people  of  rank  and  wealth  were  either 
thrown  into  prison  or  compelled  to  flee  for  their  lives.  Among 
these  were  two  sons  of  old  Simon  Bradstreet,  the  last  of  the 
Puritan  governors.  Willard,  a  pious  minister  of  Boston,  was 
cried  out  upon  as  a  wizard  in  open  court.  Mrs.  Hale,  the  wife 
of  the  minister  of  Beverly,  was  likewise  accused.  Philip 
English,  a  rich  merchant  of  Salem,  found  it  necessary  to  take 
flight,  leaving  his  property  and  business  in  confusion.  But  a 
short  time  afterwards,  the  Salem  people  were  glad  to  invite 
him  back. 

"The  boldest  thing  that  the  accusers  did, "  continued  Grand- 
father, "was  to  cry  out  against  the  governor's  own  beloved 
wife.  Yes;  the  lady  of  Sir  William  Phips  was  accused  of 
being  a  witch  and  of  flying  through  the  air  to  attend  witch 
meetings.  When  the  governor  heard  this  he  probably  trem- 
bled, so  that  our  great  chair  shook  beneath  him." 

"Dear  Grandfather, "  cried  little  Alice,  clinging  closer  to  his 
knee,  "is  it  true  that  witches  ever  come  in  the  night-time  to 
frighten  little  children?" 

"No,  no,  dear  little  Alice,"  replied  Grandfather.  "Ever, 
if  there  were  any  witches,  they  would  flee  away  from  the 
presence  of  a  pure-hearted  child.  But  there  are  none;  and 
our  forefathers  soon  became  convinced  that  they  had  been  led 
into  a  terrible  delusion.  All  the  prisoners  on  account  of 
witchcraft  were  set  free.      But  the  innocent  dead  could  not  be 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  73 

restored  to  life;  and  the  hill  where  they  were  executed  will 
always  remind  the  people  of  the  saddest  and  most  humiliat- 
ing passage  in  our  history. ' ' 

Grandfather  then  said  that  the  next  remarkable  event,  while 
Phips  remained  in  the  chair,  was  the  arrival  at  Boston  of  an 
English  fleet  in  1693.  It  brought  an  army  which  was  intended 
for  the  conquest  of  Canada.  But  a  malignant  disease  broke 
out  among  the  soldiers  and  sailors,  and  destroyed  the  greater 
part  of  them.  The  infection  spread  into  the  town  of  Boston, 
and  made  much  havoc  there.  This  dreadful  sickness  caused 
the  governor  and  the  commander  of  the  British  forces  to  give 
up  all  thoughts  of  attacking  Canada. 

"Soon  after  this,"  said  Grandfather,  "complaints  were  car- 
ried to  the  king,  and  Phips  was  summoned  to  England  to  make 
the  best  answer  he  could.  Accordingly,  he  went  to  London, 
where,  in  1695,  he  was  seized  with  a  fever,  of  which  he  died." 

"Why,  Grandfather,"  exclaimed  Laurence,  "what  magnifi- 
cent ideas  the  governor  had!  Only  think  of  recovering  all 
that  old  treasure  which  had  laid  almost  two  centuries  under 
the  sea!  Methinks  Phips  ought  to  have  been  buried  in  the 
ocean  when  he  died,  so  that  he  might  have  gone  down  among 
the  sunken  ships  and  cargoes  of  treasure  which  he  was  always 
dreaming  about  in  his  lifetime." 

"He  was  buried  in  one  of  the  crowded  cemeteries  of  Lon- 
don." said  Grandfather. 


CHAPTER    II 

"At  the  death  of  Phips,"  proceeded  Grandfather,  "our  chair 
was  bequeathed  to  Ezekiel  Cheever,  a  famous  schoolmaster  in 
Boston.  This  old  gentleman  came  from  London  in  1637,  and 
had  been  teaching  school  ever  since;  so  that  there  were  now 
aged  men,  grandfathers  like  myself,  to  whom  Master  Cheever 
had  taught  their  alphabet.  Master  Ezekiel  Cheever  died  in 
1707,   after  having  taught  school  about  seventy  years.       It 


74  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

would  require  a  pretty  good  scholar  in  arithmetic  to  tell  how 
many  stripes  he  had  inflicted,  and  how  many  birch-rods  he  had 
worn  out,  during  all  that  time,  in  his  fatherly  tenderness  for 
his  pupils.  Almost  all  the  great  men  of  that  period  had  been 
whipped  into  eminence  by  Master  Cheever.  Moreover,  he 
had  written  a  Latin  Accidence,  which  was  used  in  schools 
more  than  half  a  century  after  his  death;  so  that  the  good  old 
man,  even  in  his  grave,  was  still  the  cause  of  trouble  and  stripes 
to  idle  schoolboys." 

Grandfather  proceeded  to  say,  that,  when  Master  Cheever 
died,  he  bequeathed  the  chair  to  the  most  learned  man  that 
was  educated  at  his  school,  or  that  had  ever  been  born  in 
America.  This  was  the  renowned  Cotlon  Mather,  minister  of 
the  Old  North  Church  in  Boston. 

As  Cotton  Mather  was  a  very  distinguished  man,  Grand- 
father took  some  pains  to  give  the  children  a  lively  conception 
of  his  character.  Over  the  door  of  his  library  were  painted 
these  words — Be  short,  —  as  a  warning  to  visitors  that  they 
must  not  do  the  world  so  much  harm  as  needlessly  to  interrupt 
this  great  man's  wonderful  labors.  On  entering  the  room  you 
would  probably  behold  it  crowded,  and  piled,  and  heaped  with 
books.  These  were  in  English,  Latin,  Greek,  Hebrew, 
Chaldaic,  and  all  other  languages  that  either  originated  at  the 
confusion  of  Babel  or  have  since  come  into  use. 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  stood  a  table,  on  which,  besides 
printed  volumes,  were  strewn  manuscript  sermons,  historical 
tracts,  and  political  pamphlets,  all  written  in  such  a  queer, 
blind,  crabbed,  fantastical  hand,  that  a  writing-master  would 
have  gone  raving  mad  at  the  sight  of  them. 

"It  is  difficult,  my  children,"  observed  Grandfather,  "to 
make  you  understand  such  a  character  as  Cotton  Mather's,  in 
whom  there  was  so  much  good,  and  yet  so  many  failings  and 
frailties.  Undoubtedly  he  was  a  pious  man.  Often  he  kept 
fasts;  and  once,  for  three  whole  days,  he  allowed  himself  not 
a    morsel  of  food,   but  spent  the  time  in  prayer  and  religious 


MASSACRE   OF   SETTLERS    BY   THE   INDIANS 


76  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

meditation.  Many  a  livelong  night  did  he  watch  and  pray. 
These  feasts  and  vigils  made  him  meager  and  haggard,  and 
probably  caused  him  to  appear  as  if  he  hardly  belonged  to  the 
world." 

"Was  not  the  witchcraft  delusion  partly  caused  by  Cotton 
Mather?"  inquired  Laurence. 

"He  was  the  chief  agent  of  the  mischief,"  answered  Grand- 
father; "but  we  will  not  suppose  that  he  acted  otherwise  than 
conscientiously.  He  believed  that  there  were  evil  spirits  all 
about  the  world." 

Here  Grandfather  was  interrupted  by  little  Alice,  who  hid 
her  face  in  his  lap,  and  murmured  a  wish  that  he  would  not 
talk  any  more  about  Cotton  Mather  and  the  evil  spirits. 
Grandfather  kissed  her  and  told  her  that  angels  were  the  only 
spirits  whom  she  had  anything  to  do  with.  He  then  spoke  of 
the  public  affairs  of  the  period. 

A  new  war  between  France  and  England  had  broken  out  in 
1702,  and  had  been  raging  ever  since.  In  the  course  of  it, 
New  England  suffered  much  injury  from  the  French  and 
Indians,  who  often  came  through  the  woods  from  Canada  and 
assaulted  the  frontier  town.  Villages  were  sometimes  burned, 
and  the  inhabitants  slaughtered,  within  a  day's  ride  of  Boston. 
The  people  of  New  England  had  a  bitter  hatred  against  the 
French,  not  only  for  the  mischief  which  they  did  with  their 
own  hands,    but  because  they  incited  the  Indians  to  hostility. 

The  New  Englanders  knew  that  they  could  never  dwell  in 
security  until  the  provinces  of  France  should  be  subdued  and 
brought  under  the  English  government.  They  frequently 
undertook  military  expeditions  against  Acadia  and  Canada, 
and  sometimes  besieged  the  fortresses  by  which  those  terri- 
tories were  defended.  But  the  earnest  wish  of  their  hearts 
was  to  take  Quebec,  and  so  get  possession  of  the  whole  prov- 
ince of  Canada.  Phips  had  once  attempted  it,  but  without 
success. 

Fleets  and  soldiers  were  often  sent  from  England  to  assist 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  77 

the  colonists  in  their  warlike  undertakings.  In  1710  Port 
Royal,  a  fortress  of  Acadia,  was  taken  by  the  English.  The 
next  year,  a  fleet,  commanded  by  Admiral  Walker,  arrived  in 
Boston  Harbor.  On  board  of  this  fleet  was  the  English 
General  Hill,  with  seven  regiments  of  soldiers.  In  a  month 
the  fleet  set  sail,  carrying  four  regiments  from  New  England 
and  New  York,  besides  the  English  soldiers.  The  whole  army 
amounted  to  at  least  seven  thousand  men.  They  steered  for 
the  mouth  of  the  river  St.  Lawrence. 

"Cotton  Mather  prayed  most  fervently  for  their  success, " 
continued  Grandfather,  "both  in  his  pulpit  and  when  he 
kneeled  down  in  the  solitude  of  his  library,  resting  his  face  on 
our  old  chair.  But  Providence  ordered  the  result  otherwise. 
In  a  few  weeks  tidings  were  received  that  eight  or  nine  of  the 
vessels  had  been  wrecked  in  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  that  above 
a  thousand  drowned  soldiers  had  been  washed  ashore  on  the 
banks  of  that  mighty  river.  After  this  misfortune,  Walker 
set  sail  for  England;  and  many  pious  people  began  to  think  it 
a  sin  even  to  wish  for  the  conquest  of  Canada." 

"I  would  never  give  it  up  so, "  cried  Charley.  "Nor  did 
they,  as  we  shall  see,"  replied  Grandfather.  "However,  no 
more  attempts  were  made  during  this  war,  which  came  to  a 
close  in  1 7 13.  The  people  of  New  England  were  probably 
glad  of  some  repose;  for  their  young  men  had  been  made  sol- 
diers, till  many  of  them  were  fit  for  nothing  else.  And  those 
who  remained  at  home  had  been  heavily  taxed  to  pay  for  the 
arms,  ammunition,  fortifications,  and  all  the  other  endless 
expenses  of  a  war." 

The  next  event  which  Grandfather  spoke  of  was  the  acces- 
sion of  the  Elector  of  Hanover  to  the  throne  of  England,  in 
1 7 14,  on  the  death  of  Queen  Anne.  Hitherto  the  people  had 
been  in  continual  dread  that  the  male  line  of  the  Stuarts,  who 
were  descended  from  the  beheaded  King  Charles  and  the  ban- 
ished King  James,  would  be  restored  to  the  throne.  In  that 
case,  as  the  Stuart  family  were  Roman  Catholics,  it  was  sup- 


78  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

posed  that  they  would  attempt  to  establish  their  own  religion 
throughout  the  British  dominions.  But  the  Elector  of  Han- 
over and  all  his  race  were  Protestants;  so  that  now  the 
descendants  of  the  old  Puritans  were  relieved  from  many  fears 
and  disquietudes. 

"The  importance  of  this  event,"  observed  Grandfather, 
"was  a  thousand  times  greater  than  that  of  a  Presidential 
election  in  our  own  days.  If  the  people  dislike  their  President, 
they  may  get  rid  of  him  in  four  years;  whereas  a  dynasty  of 
kings  may  wear  the  crown  for  an  unlimited  period." 

The  German  elector  was  proclaimed  king  from  the  balcony 
of  the  Town-House  in  Boston,  by  the  title  of  George  the  First; 
while  the  trumpets  sounded,  and  the  people  cried  Amen. 
That  night  the  town  was  illuminated;  and  Cotton  Mather 
threw  aside  book  and  pen,  and  left  Grandfather's  chair  vacant, 
while  he  walked  hither  and  thither  to  witness  the  rejoicings. 


CHAPTER    III 

"Governor  William  Shirley,"  said  Grandfather,  "came  from 
England,  and  began  to  practice  law  in  Boston.  He  was  as 
stirring  and  active  a  governor  as  Massachusetts  ever  had 
Even  Phips  hardly  equaled  him.  The  first  year  or  two  of  his 
administration  was  spent  in  trying  to  regulate  the  currency. 
But  in  1744,  after  a  peace  of  more  than  thirty  years,  war 
broke  out  between  France  and  England." 

"And  I  suppose,"  said  Charley,  "the  governor  went  to  take 
Canada. " 

"Not  exactly,  Charley,"  said  Grandfather;  "though  you 
have  made  a  pretty  shrewd  conjecture.  He  planned,  in  1745, 
an  expedition  against  Louisburg.  This  was  a  fortified  city, 
on  the  Island  of  Cape  Breton,  near  Nova  Scotia.  Its  walls 
were  of  immense  height  and  strength,  and  were  defended  by 
hundreds  of  heavy  cannon.       It  was  the  strongest   fortress 


NEW   ENGLANDERS   BEFORE   LOUISBURG 


80  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

which  the  French  possessed  in  America;  and  if  the  king  of 
France  had  guessed  Governor  Shirley's  intentions,  would 
have  sent  all  the  ships  he  could  muster  to  protect  it." 

The  siege  of  Louisburg  was  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
events  that  ever  the  inhabitants  of  New  England  were 
engaged  in.     We  shall  call  it 

THE    PROVINCIAL    MUSTER 

The  expedition  against  Louisburg  first  began  to  be  thought 
of  in  the  month  of  January.  From  that  time  the  governor's 
chair  was  continually  surrounded  by  counselors,  representa- 
tives, clergymen,  captains,  pilots,  and  all  manner  of  people, 
with  whom  he  consulted  about  this  wonderful  project. 

First  of  all,  it  was  necessary  to  provide  men  and  arms.  The 
legislature  immediately  sent  out  a  huge  quantity  of  paper 
money,  with  which,  as  if  by  magic  spell,  the  governor  hoped 
to  get  possession  of  all  the  old  cannon,  powder  and  balls, 
rusty  swords  and  muskets,  and  everything  else  that  would  be 
serviceable  in  killing  Frenchmen.  Drums  were  beaten  in  all 
the  villages  of  Massachusetts  to  enlist  soldiers  for  the  service. 
Messages  were  sent  to  the  other  governors  of  New  England, 
and  to  New  York  and  Pennsylvania,  entreating  them  to  unite 
in  the  crusade  against  the  French.  All  these  provinces  agreed 
to  give  what  assistance  they  could. 

Nothing  now  was  so  valuable  as  arms,  of  whatever  style  and 
fashion  they  might  be.  The  bellows  blew,  and  the  hammer 
clanged  continually  upon  the  anvil,  while  the  blacksmiths 
were  repairing  the  broken  weapons  of  other  wars.  Doubtless 
some  of  the  soldiers  lugged  out  those  enormous  heavy  muskets 
which  used  to  be  fired,  with  a  rest,  in  the  time  of  the  early 
Puritans.  Great  horse-pistols,  too,  were  found,  which  would 
go  off  with  a  bang  like  a  cannon.  Old  cannon,  with  touch- 
holes  almost  as  big  as  their  muzzles,  were  looked  upon  as 
treasures.  Pikes  which,  perhaps,  had  been  handled  by  Miles 
Standish's  soldiers,  now  made  their  appearance  again.     Many 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  81 

a  young  man  ransacked  the  garret  and  brought  forth  his  great- 
grandfather's sword,  corroded  with  rust  and  stained  with  the 
blood  of  King  Philip's  War. 

Rub-a-dub-dub!  And  now  the  army  began  to  gather  into 
Boston.  Tall,  lanky,  awkward  fellows  came  in  squads,  and 
companies,  and  regiments,  swaggering  along,  dressed  in  their 
brown  homespun  clothes  and  blue  yarn  stockings.  They 
stooped  as  if  they  still  had  hold  of  the  plow-handles,  and 
marched  without  any  time  or  tune.  Hither  they  came,  from 
the  corn-fields,  from  the  clearing  in  the  forest,  from  the  black- 
smith's forge,  from  the  carpenter's  workshop,  and  from  the 
shoemaker's  seat.  They  were  an  army  of  rough  faces  and 
sturdy  frames.  A  trained  officer  of  Europe  would  have 
laughed  at  them  till  his  sides  had  ached.  But  there  was  a 
spirit  in  their  bosom  which  is  more  essential  to  soldiership 
than  to  wear  red  coats  and  march  in  stately  ranks  to  the  sound 
of  regular  music. 

At  length,  on  March  24,  1745,  the  army  set  sail  from  Boston 
in  twelve  vessels  which  had  been  hired  by  the  governor.  A 
few  days  afterwards  an  English  fleet,  commanded  by  Com- 
modore Warren,  sailed  also  for  Louisburgto  assist  the  provin- 
cial army.  So  now,  after  all  this  bustle  of  preparation,  the 
town  and  province  were  left  in  stillness  and  repose. 

But  stillness  and  repose,  at  such  a  time  of  anxious  expecta- 
tion, are  hard  to  bear.  The  hearts  of  the  old  people  and 
women  sunk  within  them  when  they  reflected  what  perils  they 
had  sent  their  sons,  and  husbands,  and  brothers  to  encounter. 
All  the  ministers  prayed  earnestly  in  their  pulpits  for  a  bless- 
ing on  the  army  of  New  England.  In  every  family,  when 
the  good  man  lifted  up  his  heart  in  domestic  worship,  the 
burden  of  his  petition  was  for  the  safety  of  those  dear  ones 
who  were  fighting  under  the  walls  of  Louisburg. 

Governor  Shirley  all  this  time  was  probably  in  an  ecstasy 
of  impatience.  He  found  no  quiet,  not  even  in  Grandfather's 
chair;  but  hurried  to  and  fro,  and  up  and  down  the  staircase 

6  Chair 


82  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

of  the  Province  House.  Now  he  mounted  to  the  cupola  and 
looked  seaward,  straining  his  eyes  to  discover  if  there  were  a 
sail  upon  the  horizon.  A  few  weeks  after  the  departure  of 
the  troops,  the  Commodore  sent  a  small  vessel  to  Boston  with 
two  French  prisoners,  who  assured  Shirley  that  the  fortifica- 
tions of  Louisburg  were  too  strong  ever  to  be  stormed  by  the 
provincial  army. 

Day  after  day  and  week  after  week  went  on.  The  people 
grew  heart-sick  with  anxiety;  for  the  flower  of  the  country 
was  at  peril  in  this  adventurous  expedition.  It  was  now  day- 
break on  the  morning  of  the  third  of  July. 

But  hark!  what  sound  is  this?  The  hurried  clang  of  a  bell! 
There  is  the  Old  North  pealing  suddenly  out! — there  the  Old 
South  strikes  in! — now  the  peal  comes  from  the  church  in 
Brattle  street! — the  bells  of  nine  or  ten  steeples  are  all  fling- 
ing their  iron  voices  at  once  upon  the  morning  breeze!  Is  it 
joy,  or  alarm?  There  goes  the  roar  of  a  cannon,  too!  A  royal 
salute  is  thundered  forth.  And  now  we  hear  the  loud  exult- 
ing shout  of  a  multitude  assembled  in  the  street.  Huzza! 
Huzza!     Louisburg  has  surrendered!     Huzza! 

"O  Grandfather,  how  glad  I  should  have  been  to  live  in 
those  times!"  cried  Charley.  "And  what  reward  did  the  king 
give  to  Pepperell  and  Shirley?" 

"He  made  Pepperell  a  baronet;  so  that  he  was  now  to  be 
called  Sir  William  Pepperell,"  replied  Grandfather.  "He 
likewise  appointed  both  Pepperell  and  Shirley  to  be  colonels 
in  the  royal  army.  These  rewards  were  well  deserved;  for 
this  was  the  greatest  triumph  that  the  English  met  in  the 
whole  course  of  that  war." 

"But  did  the  country  gain  any  real  good  by  the  conquest  or 
Louisburg?"  asked  Laurence.  "Or  was  all  the  benefit  reapec 
by  Pepperell  and  Shirley?" 

"The  English  Parliament,"  replied  Grandfather,  "agreed 
to  pay  the  colonists  for  all  the  expenses  of  the  siege.  Accord- 
ingly, in   1749,  two  hundred  and  fifteen  chests  of  Spanish  dol- 


84  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

lars  and  one  hundred  casks  of  copper  coin  were  brought  from 
England  to  Boston.  The  whole  amount  was  about  a  million 
of  dollars.  Twenty-seven  carts  and  trucks  carried  this  money 
from  the  wharf  to  the  provincial  treasury.  Was  not  this  a 
pretty  liberal  reward?" 

"The  mothers  of  the  young  men  who  were  killed  at  the 
siege  of  Louisburg  would  not  have  thought  so, ' '  said  Laurence. 

"No,  Laurence,"  rejoined  Grandfather;  "and  every  warlike 
achievement  involves  an  amount  of  physical  and  moral  evil, 
for  which  all  the  gold  in  the  Spanish  mines  would  not  be  the 
slightest  recompense.  But  we  are  to  consider  that  this  siege 
was  one  of  the  occasions  on  which  the  colonists  tested  their 
ability  for  war,  and  thus  were  prepared  for  the  great  contest 
of  the  Revolution.  In  that  point  of  view,  the  valor  of  our 
forefathers  was  its  own  reward. 

"In  1747,"  proceeded  Grandfather,  "Governor  Shirley  was 
driven  from  the  Province  House,  not  by  a  hostile  fleet  and 
army,  but  by  a  mob  of  the  Boston  people.  They  were  so 
incensed  at  the  conduct  of  the  British  Commodore  Knowles, 
who  had  impressed  some  of  their  fellow-citizens,  that  several 
thousands  of  them  surrounded  the  council  chamber  and  threw 
stones  and  brickbats  into  the  windows.  The  governor 
attempted  to  pacify  them;  but  not  succeeding,  he  thought  it 
necessary  to  leave  the  town  and  take  refuge  within  the  walls 
of  Castle  William.  Quiet  was  not  restored  until  Knowles  had 
sent  back  the  citizens,  and  promised  never  to  venture  upon 
any  oppressive  measures  against  their  colonial  brethren." 

Peace  being  declared  between  France  and  England  in  1748, 
the  governor  had  now  an  opportunity  to  sit  at  his  ease  in 
Grandfather's  chair.  Such  repose,  however,  appears  not  to 
have  suited  his  disposition;  for,  in  the  following  year  he  went 
to  England,  and  thence  was  dispatched  to  France  on  public 
business.  Meanwhile,  as  Shirley  had  not  resigned  his  office, 
Phips  acted  as  chief  magistrate  in  his  stead. 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  85 


CHAPTER   IV 


In  the  early  twilight  of  Thanksgiving  Eve  came  Laurence, 
and  Clara,  and  Charley,  and  little  Alice  hand  in  hand,  and 
stood  in  a  semi-circle  round  Grandfather's  chair.  They  had 
been  joyous  throughout  that  day  of  festivity,  mingling 
together  in  all  kinds  of  play,  so  that  the  house  had  echoed 
with  their  airy  mirth. 

Grandfather,  too,  had  been  happy,  though  not  mirthful. 
He  felt  that  this  was  to  be  set  down  as  one  of  the  good  Thanks- 
givings of  his  life.  In  truth,  all  his  former  Thanksgivings 
had  borne  their  part  in  the  present  one,  for  his  years  of 
infancy,  and  youth,  and  manhood,  with  their  blessings  and 
their  griefs,  had  flitted  before  him  while  he  sat  silently  in  the 
great  chair.  Vanished  scenes  had  been  pictured  in  the  air. 
The  forms  of  departed  friends  had  visited  him.  Voices  to  be 
heard  no  more  on  earth  had  sent  an  echo  from  the  infinite 
and  the  eternal.  These  shadows,  if  such  they  were,  seemed 
almost  as  real  to  him  as  what  was  actually  present, — as  the 
merry  shouts  and  laughter  of  the  children, — as  their  figures, 
dancing  like  sunshine  before  his  eyes. 

He  felt  that  the  past  was  not  taken  from  him.  The  happi- 
ness of  former  days  was  a  possession  forever.  And  there  was 
something  in  the  mingled  sorrow  of  his  lifetime  that  became 
akin  to  happiness,  after  being  long  treasured  in  the  depths  of 
his  heart.  There  it  underwent  a  change,  and  grew  more 
precious  than  pure  gold. 

And  now  came  the  children,  somewhat  weary  with  their 
wild  play,  and  sought  the  quiet  enjoyment  of  Grandfather's 
talk.  The  good  old  sire  rubbed  his  eyes  and  smiled  round 
upon  them  all.       He  was  glad  to  find  that  he  was  yet  of  con- 


86  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

sequence,  and  could  give  pleasure  to  the  world.  After  being 
so  merry  all  day  long,  did  these  children  desire  to  hear  his 
sober  talk?  Oh,  then,  old  Grandfather  had  yet  a  place  to  fill 
among  living  men, — or  at  least  among  boys  and  girls! 

And  so  he  took  up  the  history  of  the  chair  from  the  epoch  of 
the  peace  of  1748.  By  one  of  the  provisions  of  the  treaty, 
Louisburg,  which  the  New  Englanders  had  been  at  so  much 
pains  to  take,  was  restored  to  the  king  of  France. 

As  soon  as  peace  was  declared,  the  French  began  to  build 
strong  fortifications  in  the  interior  of  North  America.  It  was 
strange  to  behold  these  warlike  castles  on  the  banks  of 
solitary  lakes  and  far  in  the  middle  of  woods.  The  Indian, 
paddling  his  birch-canoe  on  Lake  Champlain,  looked  up  at  the 
high  ramparts  of  Ticonderoga,  stone  piled  on  stone,  bristling 
with  cannon,  and  the  white  flag  of  France  floating  above. 
There  were  similar  fortifications  on  Lake  Ontario,  and  near 
the  great  Falls  of  Niagara,  and  at  the  sources  of  the  Ohio 
River.  And  all  around  these  forts  and  castles  lay  the  eternal 
forest,  and  the  roll  of  the  drum  died  away  in  those  deep  soli- 
tudes. 

The  truth  was,  that  the  French  intended  to  build  forts  all 
the  way  from  Canada  to  Louisiana.  They  would  then  have 
had  a  wall  of  military  strength  at  the  back  of  the  English 
settlements  so  as  completely  to  hem  them  in.  The  king  of 
England  considered  the  building  of  these  forts  as  a  sufficient 
cause  of  war,  which  was  accordingly  commenced  in  1754. 

"Shirley,"  said  Grandfather,  "had  returned  to  Boston  in 
J753-  While  in  Paris  he  had  married  a  second  wife,  a  young 
French  girl,  and  now  brought  her  to  the  Province  House. 
But  when  war  was  breaking  out  it  was  impossible  for  such  a 
bustling  man  to  stay  quietly  at  home,  sitting  in  our  old  chair, 
with  his  wife  and  children  round  about  him.  He  therefore 
obtained  a  command  in  the  English  forces." 

"What  did  Pepperell  do?"  asked  Charley. 

"He  stayed  at  home,"  said  Grandfather,  "and  was  general 


88  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

of  the  militia.  The  veteran  regiments  of  the  English  army 
which  were  now  sent  across  the  Atlantic  would  have  scorned 
to  fight  under  the  orders  of  an  old  American  merchant.  And 
now  began  what  aged  people  call  the  Old  French  War.  It 
would  be  going  too  far  astray  from  the  history  of  our  chair  to 
tell  you  one  half  of  the  battles  that  were  fought.  I  cannot 
even  allow  myself  to  describe  the  bloody  defeat  of  General 
Braddock,  near  the  sources  of  the  Ohio  River,  in  1755,  when 
he  attempted  to  capture  Fort  Duquesne.  But  I  must  not 
omit  to  mention  that,  when  the  English  general  was  mortally 
wounded  and  his  army  routed,  the  remains  of  it  were  preserved 
by  the  skill  and  valor  of  George  Washington." 

At  the  mention  of  this  name  the  children  started  as  if  a  sud- 
den sunlight  had  gleamed  upon  the  history  of  their  country, 
now  that  the  great  Deliverer  had  risen  above  the  horizon. 

Among  all  the  events  of  the  Old  French  War,  Grandfather 
thought  that  there  was  none  more  interesting  than  the 
removal  of  the  inhabitants  of  Acadia.  From  the  first  settle- 
ment of  this  ancient  province  of  the  French,  in  1604,  until  the 
present  time,  its  people  could  scarcely  ever  know  what  king- 
dom held  dominion  over  them.  They  were  a  peaceful  race, 
taking  no  delight  in  warfare,  and  caring  nothing  for  military 
renown.  And  yet,  in  every  war,  their  region  was  infested 
with  iron-hearted  soldiers,  both  French  and  English,  who 
fought  one  another  for  the  privilege  of  ill-treating  these  poor, 
harmless  Acadians.  Sometimes  the  treaty  of  peace  made 
them  subjects  of  one  king,  sometimes  of  another. 

In  the  peace  of  1748  Acadia  had  been  ceded  to  England. 
But  the  French  still  claimed  a  large  portion  of  it,  and  built 
forts  for  its  defense.  In  1755  these  forts  were  taken,  and  the 
whole  of  Acadia  was  conquered  by  three  thousand  men  from 
Massachusetts,  under  the  command  of  General  Winslow.  The 
inhabitants  were  accused  of  supplying  the  French  with  pro- 
visions, and  of  doing  other  things  that  violated  their  neu- 
trality. 


WASHINGTON  PLANTING  THE  BRITISH  FLAG  AT  FORT  DUQUESNE 


90  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

"These  accusations  were  probably  true,"  observed  Grand- 
father; "for  the  Acadians  were  descended  from  the  French, 
and  had  the  same  friendly  feelings  toward  them  that  the 
people  of  Massachusetts  had  for  the  English.  But  their  pun- 
ishment was  severe.  The  English  determined  to  tear  these 
poor  people  from  their  native  homes  and  scatter  them  abroad. " 

The  Acadians  were  about  seven  thousand  in  number.  A 
considerable  part  of  them  were  made  prisoners,  and  trans- 
ported to  the  English  colonies.  All  their  dwellings  and 
churches  were  burned,  their  cattle  were  killed,  and  the  whole 
country  was  laid  waste,  so  that  none  of  them  might  find  shel- 
ter or  food  in  their  old  homes  after  the  departure  of  the  Eng- 
lish. One  thousand  of  the  prisoners  were  sent  to  Massachu- 
setts; and  Grandfather  allowed  his  fancy  to  follow  them 
thither,  and  tried  to  give  his  auditors  an  idea  of  their  situation. 

We  shall  call  this  passage  the  story  of 

THE    ACADIAN    EXILES 

A  sad  day  it  was  for  the  poor  Acadians  when  the  armed 
soldiers  drove  them,  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet,  down  to  the 
seashore.  Very  sad  were  they,  likewise,  while  tossing  upon 
the  ocean  in  the  crowded  transport  vessels.  Sadder  still  was 
it  when  they  were  landed  on  the  Long  Wharf  in  Boston,  and 
left  to  themselves  on  a  foreign  strand. 

Oh,  how  many  broken  bonds  of  affection  were  here!  Coun- 
try lost! — friends  lost! — their  rural  wealth  of  cottage,  field, 
and  herds  all  lost  together!  Every  tie  between  these  poor 
exiles  and  the  world  seemed  to  be  cut  off  at  once.  They  must 
have  regretted  that  they  had  not  died  before  their  exile;  for 
even  the  English  would  not  have  been  so  pitiless  as  to  deny 
them  graves  in  their  native  soil.  The  dead  were  happy,  for 
they  were  not  exiles! 

While  they  thus  stood  upon  the  wharf,  the  inquisitiveness 
of  the  New  England  people  would  naturally  lead  them  into 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  91 

the  middle  of  the  poor  Acadians.  Prying  busybodies  thrust 
their  heads  into  the  circle  wherever  two  or  three  of  the  exiles 
were  conversing  together.  How  puzzled  did  they  look  at  the 
outlandish  sound  of  the  French  tongue!  There  were  seen  the 
New  England  women,  too.  They  had  just  come  out  of  their 
warm,  safe  homes,  where  everything  was  regular  and  com- 
fortable, and  where  their  husbands  and  children  would  be 
with  them  at  night-fall.  Surely  they  could  pity  the  wretched 
wives  and  mothers  of  Acadia!  Or  did  the  sign  of  the  cross 
which  the  Acadians  continually  made  upon  their  breasts,  and 
which  was  abhorred  by  the  descendants  of  the  Puritans,  —  did 
that  sign  exclude  all  pity? 

After  standing  a  long  time  at  the  end  of  the  wharf,  gazing 
seaward,  as  if  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  their  lost  Acadia,  the 
strangers  began  to  stray  into  the  town. 

Whither  did  they  go?  I  imagine  them  wandering  about  the 
streets,  telling  the  townspeople,  in  outlandish,  unintelligble 
words,  that  no  earthly  affliction  ever  equaled  what  had  be- 
fallen them.  Man's  brotherhood  with  man  was  sufficient  to 
make  the  New  Englanders  understand  this  language.  The 
strangers  wanted  food.  Some  of  them  sought  hospitality  at 
the  doors  of  the  stately  mansions.  Others  were  applicants  at 
the  humble  wooden  tenements  where  dwelt  the  petty  shop- 
keepers and  mechanics.  Pray  Heaven  that  no  family  in  Boston 
turned  one  of  these  poor  exiles  from  their  door!  It  would  be 
a  reproach  upon  New  England, — a  crime  worthy  of  heavy 
retribution, — if  the  aged  women  and  children,  or  even  the 
strong  men,  were  allowed  to  feel  the  pinch  of  hunger. 

"Grandfather,"  cried  Laurence,  with  emotion  trembling  in 
his  voice,  "did  iron-hearted  war  itself  ever  do  so  hard  and 
cruel  a  thing  as  this  before?" 

"You  have  read  in  history,  Laurence,  of  whole  regions 
wantonly  laid  waste,"  said  Grandfather.  "In  the  removal  of 
the  Acadians,  the  troops  were  guilty  of  no  cruelty  or  outrage, 
except  what  was  inseparable  from  the  measure," 


92  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

Little  Alice,  whose  eyes  had  all  along  been  brimming-  full 
of  tears,  now  burst  forth  sobbing;  for  Grandfather  had  touched 
her  sympathies  more  than  he  intended.  "To  think  of  a  whole 
people  homeless  in  the  world!"  said  Clara,  with  moistened 
eyes.      "There  never  was  anything  so  sad!" 

"It  was  their  own  fault!"  cried  Charley,  energetically. 
"Why  did  not  they  fight  for  the  country  where  they  were 
born?  Then,  if  the  worst  had  happened  to  them,  they  could 
only  have  been  killed  and  buried  there.  They  would  not  have 
been  exiles  then. " 

"Certainly  their  lot  was  as  hard  as  death,"  said  Grand- 
father. "All  that  could  be  done  for  them  in  the  English  prov- 
inces was  to  send  them  to  the  almshouses,  or  bind  them  out 
to  taskmasters.  And  this  was  the  fate  of  persons  who  had 
possessed  a  comfortable  property  in  their  native  country. 
Some  of  them  found  means  to  embark  for  France;  but  though  it 
was  the  land  of  their  forefathers,  it  must  have  been  a  foreign 
land  to  them.  Those  who  remained  behind  always  cherished 
a  belief  that  the  king  of  France  would  never  make  peace  with 
England  till  his  poor  Acadians  were  restored  to  their  country 
and  their  homes. " 

"And  did  he?"  inquired  Clara. 

"Alas,  my  dear  Clara,"  said  Grandfather,  "it  is  improbable 
that  the  slightest  whisper  of  the  woes  of  Acadia  ever  reached 
the  ears  of  Louis  the  Fifteenth.  The  exiles  grew  old  in  the 
British  provinces,  and  never  saw  Acadia  again.  Their 
descendants  remain  among  us  to  this  day.  They  have  for- 
gotten the  language  of  their  ancestors,  and  probably  retain  no 
tradition  of  their  misfortunes.  But,  methinks,  if  I  were  an 
American  poet,  I  would  choose  Acadia  for  the  subject  of  my 
song.  "* 

And  now,  having  thrown  a  gentle  gloom  around  the  Thanks- 

*The  story  is  told  in  Longfellow's  "Evangeline." 


94  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

giving  fireside  by  a  story  that  made  the  children  feel  the 
blessings  of  a  secure  and  peaceful  hearth,  Grandfather  put  off 
the  other  events  of  the  Old  French  War  till  the  next 
evening. 


CHAPTER   V 

Accordingly  in  the  twilight  of  the  succeeding  eve,  the  chil- 
dren besought  Grandfather  to  tell  them  what  had  next  hap- 
pened to  the  old  chair. 

"Our  chair,"  said  Grandfather,  "stood  all  this  time  in  the 
Province  House.  But  Shirley  had  seldom  an  opportunity  to 
repose  within  its  arms.  He  was  leading  his  troops  through 
the  forest,  or  sailing  in  a  flat-boat  on  Lake  Ontario,  or  sleep- 
ing in  his  tent,  while  the  awful  cataract  of  Niagara  sent  its 
roar  through  his  dreams.  At  one  period  in  the  early  part  of 
the  war,  Shirley  had  the  chief  command  of  all  the  king's 
forces  in  America." 

"Did  his  young  wife  go  with  him  to  the  war?"  asked  Clara. 

"I  rather  imagine,"  replied  Grandfather,  "that  she  re- 
mained in  Boston.  The  people  of  Massachusetts  were  never 
fond  of  Shirley's  young  French  wife.  They  had  a  suspicion 
that  she  betrayed  the  military  plans  of  the  English  to  the 
generals  of  the  French  armies." 

"And  was  it  true?"  inquired  Clara. 

"Probably  not,"  said  Grandfather.  "But  the  mere  sus- 
picion did  Shirley  a  great  deal  of  harm.  Partly  for  this  rea- 
son, but  much  more  on  account  of  his  inefficiency  as  a  gen- 
eral, he  was  deprived  of  his  command  in  1756,  and  recalled  to 
England.  He  never  afterwards  made  any  figure  in  public 
life. " 

As  Grandfather's  chair  had  no  locomotive  properties,  and 
did  not  even  run  on  casters,  it  cannot  be  supposed  to  have 
marched  in  person  to  the  Old  French  War.      But  Grandfather 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


95 


delayed  its  momentous  history  while  he  touched  briefly  upon 
some  of  the  bloody  battles,  sieges,  and  onslaughts,  the  tidings 
of  which  kept  continually  coming  to  the  ears  of  the  old  inhab- 
itants of  Boston.     The  woods  of  the  north  were  populous  with 


GENERAL   WOLFE 


fighting  men.  All  the  Indian  tribes  uplifted  their  toma- 
hawks, and  took  part  either  with  the  French  or  English.  The 
rattle  of  musketry  and  roar  of  cannon  disturbed  the  ancient 
quiet  of   the  forest,   and  actually  drove  the  bears  and  other 


96  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

wild  beasts  to  the  more  cultivated  portion  of  the  country  in 
the  vicinity  of  the  sea-ports.  The  children  felt  as  if  they 
were  transported  back  to  those  forgotten  times,  and  that  the 
couriers  from  the  army,  with  the  news  of  a  battle  lost  or  won, 
might  even  now  be  heard  galloping  through  the  streets. 
Grandfather  told  them  about  the  battle  of  Lake  George  in 
1 755,  when  the  gallant  Colonel  Williams,  a  Massachusetts 
officer,  was  slain  with  many  of  his  countrymen.  But  General 
Johnson  and  General  Lyman,  with  their  army,  drove  back 
the  enemy  and  mortally  wounded  the  French  leader,  who  was 
called  the  Baron  Dieskau. 

In  the  first  years  of  the  war  there  were  many  disasters  on 
the  English  side.  Among  these  was  the  loss  of  Fort  Oswego 
in  1756,  and  of  Fort  William  Henry  in  the  following  year. 
But  the  greatest  misfortune  that  befell  the  English  during  the 
whole  war  was  the  repulse  of  General  Abercrombie,  with  his 
army,  from  the  ramparts  of  Ticonderoga  in  1758.  He  attempted 
to  storm  the  walls;  but  a  terrible  conflict  ensued,  in  which 
more  than  two  thousand  Englishmen  and  New  Englanders 
were  killed  or  wounded.  The  slain  soldiers  now  lie  buried 
around  that  ancient  fortress.  When  the  plow  passes  over  the 
soil,  it  turns  up  here  and  there  a  moldering  bone. 

Up  to  this  period,  none  of  the  English  generals  had  shown 
any  military  talent.  Shirley,  the  Earl  of  London,  and  Aber- 
crombie had  each  held  the  chief  command  at  different  times; 
but  not  one  of  them  had  won  a  single  important  triumph  for 
the  British  arms.  This  ill  success  was  not  owing  to  the  want 
of  means;  for,  in  1758,  Abercrombie  had  fifty  thousand  sol- 
diers under  his  command.  But  the  French  general,  the  fam- 
ous Montcalm,  possessed  a  great  genius  for  war  and  had  some- 
thing within  him  that  taught  him  how  battles  were  to  be  won. 

At  length,  in  1759,  Sir  Jeffrey  Amherst  was  appointed 
commander-in-chief  of  all  the  British  forces  in  America.  He 
was  a  man  of  ability  and  a  skillful  soldier.  A  plan  was  now 
formed  for  accomplishing  that  object  which  had  so  long  been 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


97 


the  darling  wish  of  the  New  Englanders,  and  which  their 
fathers  had  so  many  times  attempted.  This  was  the  conquest 
of  Canada. 


GENERAL    MONTCALM 


Three  separate  armies  were  to  enter  Canada  from  differ- 
ent  quarters.       One    of   the    three,    commanded   by   General 


7  Chair 


98  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

Prideaux,  was  to  embark  on  Lake  Ontario  and  proceed  to 
Montreal.  The  second,  at  the  head  of  which  was  Amherst 
himself,  was  destined  to  reach  the  river  St.  Lawrence  by  the 
way  of  Lake  Champlain,  and  then  go  down  the  river  to  meet 
the  third  army.  This  last,  led  by  General  Wolfe,  was  to  enter 
the  St.  Lawrence  from  the  sea  and  ascend  the  river  to 
Quebec.  It  is  to  Wolfe  and  his  army  that  England  owes  one 
of  the  most  splendid  triumphs  ever  written  in  our  history. 

Grandfather  described  the  siege  of  Quebec,  and  told  how 
Wolfe  led  his  soldiers  up  a  rugged  and  lofty  precipice,  that 
rose  from  the  shore  of  the  river  to  the  plain  on  which  the  city 
stood.  This  bold  adventure  was  achieved  in  the  darkness  of 
night.  At  daybreak  tidings  were  carried  to  Montcalm  that 
the  English  army  was  waiting  to  give  him  battle  on  the  Plains 
of  Abraham.  This  brave  French  general  ordered  his  drums 
to  strike  up,  and  marched  to  encounter  Wolfe. 

He  marched  to  his  own  death.  The  battle  was  the  most 
fierce  and  terrible  that  had  ever  been  fought  in  America. 
Wolfe  was  at  the  head  of  his  soldiers,  and,  while  encouraging 
them  onward,  received  a  mortal  wound.  He  reclined  against 
a  stone  in  the  agonies  of  death;  but  it  seemed  as  if  his  spirit 
could  not  pass  away  while  the  fight  yet  raged  so  doubtfully. 
Suddenly  a  shout  came  pealing  across  the  battlefield :  "They 
flee!  they  flee!" — and,  for  a  moment,  Wolfe  lifted  his  languid 
head.  "Who  flee?"  he  inquired.  "The  French!"  replied  an 
officer.  "Then  I  die  satisfied!"  said  Wolfe,  and  expired  in 
the  arm  of  victory. 

"If  ever  a  warrior's  death  were  glorious,  Wolfe's  was  so!" 
said  Grandfather;  and  his  eye  kindled,  though  he  was  a  man 
of  peaceful  thoughts  and  gentle  spirit.  "His  lifeblood 
streamed  to  baptize  the  soil  which  he  had  added  to  the  domin- 
ions of  Britain.  His  dying  breath  was  mingled  with  his  army's 
shout  of  victory." 

"Oh,  it  was  a  good  death  to  die!"  cried  Charley,  with  glis- 
tening eyes.       "Was  it  not  a  good  death,  Laurence?"     Lau- 


100  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

rence  made  no  reply;  for  his  heart  burned  within  him,  as  the 
picture  of  Wolfe,  dying  on  the  blood-stained  field  of  victory, 
arose  to  his  imagination;  and  yet  he  had  a  deep  inward  con- 
sciousness that  there  was  a  truer  glory  than  could  thus  be 
won. 

"There  were  other  battles  in  Canada  after  Wolfe's  victory," 
resumed  Grandfather;  "but  we  may  consider  the  Old  French 
War  as  having  terminated  with  this  great  event.  The  treaty 
of  peace,  however,  was  not  signed  until  1763.  The  terms  of 
the  treaty  were  very  disadvantageous  to  the  French;  for  all 
Canada  and  all  Acadia,  and  the  Island  of  Cape  Breton — in 
short,  all  the  territories  that  France  and  England  had  been 
fighting  about  for  nearly  a  hundred  years — -were  surrendered 
to  the  English." 

"So,  now  at  last,"  said  Laurence,  "New  England  had 
gained  her  wish.      Canada  was  taken  !" 

"And  now  there  was  nobody  to  fight  with  but  the  Indians," 
said  Charley. 

Grandfather  mentioned  two  other  important  events.  The 
first  was  the  great  fire  of  Boston  in  1760,  when  the  glare  from 
nearly  three  hundred  buildings  all  in  flames  at  once,  shone 
through  the  windows  of  the  Province  House,  and  threw  a  fierce 
luster  upon  the  gilded  foliage  and  lion's  head  of  our  old  chair. 
The  second  event  was  the  proclamation,  in  the  same  year,  of 
George  the  Third  as  King  of  Great  Britain.  The  blast  of  the 
trumpet  sounded  from  the  balcony  of  the  Town  House,  and 
awoke  the  echoes  far  and  wide,  as  if  to  challenge  all  mankind 
to  dispute  King  George's  title. 

Seven  times,  as  the  successive  monarchs  of  Britain  ascended 
the  throne,  the  trumpet  peal  of  proclamation  had  been  heard 
by  those  who  sat  in  our  venerable  chair.  But  when  the  next 
king  put  on  his  father's  crown,  no  trumpet  peal  proclaimed  it 
to  New  England! 

Grandfather  now  looked  at  his  watch,  which  hung  within  a 
beautiful  little  ebony  temple,  supported  by  four  Ionic  columns. 


KING   GEORGE   III. 


102 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


He  then  laid  his  hand  on  the  golden  locks  of  little  Alice, 
whose  head  had  sunk  down  upon  the  arm  of  our  illustrious 
chair. 

"To  bed,  to  bed,  dear  child!"  said  he;  "Grandfather  has 
put  you  to  sleep  already  by  his  stories  about  these  famous  old 
people." 


WASHINGTON   CROSSING  THE   DELAWARE 


Liberty   Tree 


THE    LAST   WORDS   OF   GRANDFATHER  S    CHAIR 


PREFACE 

Has  the  youthful  reader  grown  weary  of  Grandfather's 
stories  about  his  chair?  Will  he  not  come  this  once  more  to 
our  fireside  and  be  received  as  an  own  grandchild,  and  as 
brother,  sister,  or  cousin  to  Laurence,  Clara,  -Charley,  and 
little  Alice?  Come,  do  not  be  bashful,  nor  afraid.  You  will 
find  Grandfather  a  kindly  old  man,  with  a  cheerful  spirit,  and 
a  heart  that  has  grown  mellow,  instead  of  becoming  dry  and 
wilted,  with  age. 

He  will  tell  you  how  King  George,  trusting  in  the  might  of 
armies  and  navies,  sought  to  establish  a  tyranny  over  our 

103 


104  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

fathers.  Then  you  shall  hear  about  Liberty  Tree,  and  what 
crowds  used  to  assemble  within  the  circumference  of  its 
shadow.  Grandfather  must  speak  also  about  riots  and  disor- 
ders, and  how  an  angry  multitude  broke  into  the  mansion  of 
the  lieutenant-governor.  Next,  he  will  show  you  the  proud 
array  of  British  soldiers,  in  their  uniforms  of  scarlet  and  gold, 
landing  at  Long  Wharf,  and  marching  to  take  possession  of 
the  Common  and  Faneuil  Hall  and  the  Old  State  House. 
Then  you  must  listen  to  the  dismal  tale  of  the  Boston  Mas- 
sacre. Next  comes  the  marvelous  story  of  the  tea  ships  and 
of  that  band  of  Indian  figures  who  made  their  appearance  in 
the  dusk  of  evening  and  vanished  before  the  dawn  of  day. 
Now  come  more  and  more  regiments  of  soldiers.  Their  tents 
whiten  the  Common  like  untimely  snow.  Their  warhorses 
prance  and  neigh  within  the  walls  of  the  Old  South  Church. 
Hark!  that  faint  echo  comes  from  Lexington,  where  the  Brit- 
ish soldiers  have  fired  a  volley  that  begins  the  war  of  the  Rev- 
olution. The  people  are  up  in  arms.  Gage,  Howe,  Burgoyne, 
Lord  Percy,  and  many  another  haughty  Englishman  are 
beleaguered  within  the  peninsula  of  Boston.  The  Americans 
build  batteries  on  every  side;  and  look!  a  warlike  figure  on  a 
white  horse,  rides  majestically  from  height  to  height  and 
directs  the  progress  of  the  siege.     Can  it  be  Washington? 

Then  Grandfather  will  call  up'  the  shadow  of  a  devoted 
loyalist,  and  strive  to  paint  him  to  your  eyes  and  heart  as  he 
takes  his  farewell  walk  through  Boston.  We  will  trace  his 
melancholy  steps  from  Faneuil  Hall  to  Liberty  Tree.  That 
famous  tree !  The  axes  of  the  British  soldiers  have  hewn  it 
down,  but  not  before  its  wind- strewn  leaves  had  scattered  the 
spirit  of  freedom  far  and  wide — not  before  its  roots  had 
sprouted  even  in  the  distant  soil  of  Georgia. 

Amid  all  these  wonderful  matters  Ave  shall  not  lose  sight  of 
Grandfather's  chair.  On  its  sturdy  oaken  legs  it  trudges 
diligently  from  one  scene  to  another,  and  seems  always  to 
thrust  itself  in, the  way   with  the   most  benign  complacency 


LIBERTY   TREE    (BOSTON   COMMON) 


106  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

whenever  an  historical  personage  happens  to  be  looking  round 
for  a  seat.  The  excellent  old  chair!  Let  the  reader 
make  much  of  it  while  he  may;  for  with  this  little  volume 
Grandfather  concludes  its  history,  and  withdraws  it  from  the 
public  eye. 


CHAPTER  I 


On  the  evening  of  New  Year's  Day  Grandfather  was  walk- 
ing to  and  fro  across  the  carpet,  listening  to  the  rain  which 
beat  hard  against  the  curtained  windows.  The  riotous  blast 
shook  the  casement  as  if  a  strong  man  were  striving  to  force 
his  entrance  into  the  comfortable  room.  With  every  puff  of 
the  wind  the  fire  leaped  upward  from  the  hearth,  laughing  and 
rejoicing  at  the  shrieks  of  the  wintry  storm. 

Meanwhile  Grandfather's  chair  stood  in  its  customary  place 
by  the  fireside.  The  bright  blaze  gleamed  upon  the  fantastic 
figures  of  its  oaken  back,  and  shone  through  the  openwork,  so 
that  a  complete  pattern  was  thrown  upon  the  opposite  side  of 
the  room.  Sometimes,  for  a  moment  or  two,  the  shadow 
remained  immovable,  as  if  it  were  painted  on  the  wall.  Then, 
all  at  once  it  began  to  quiver,  and  leap,  and  dance  with  a  frisky 
motion.  Anon,  seeming  to  remember  that  these  antics  were 
unworthy  of  such  a  dignified  and  venerable  chair,  it  suddenly 
stood  still.      But  soon  it  began  to  dance  anew. 

"Only  see  how  Grandfather's  chair  is  dancing!"  cried  little 
Alice. 

And  she  ran  to  the  wall  and  tried  to  catch  hold  of  the  flick- 
ering shadow;  for,  to  children  of  five  years  old,  a  shadow 
seems  almost  as  real  as  a  substance. 

"I  wish,"  said  Clara,  "Grandfather  would  sit  down  in  the 
chair  and  finish  its  history. " 

If  the  children  had  been  looking  at  Grandfather,  they  would 
have  noticed  that  he  paused  in  his  walk  across  the  room  when 


108  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

Clara  made  this  remark.  The  kind  old  gentleman  was  ready 
and  willing  to  resume  his  stories  of  departed  times.  But  he 
had  resolved  to  wait  till  his  auditors  should  request  him  to 
proceed,  in  order  that  they  might  find  the  instructive  history 
of  the  chair  a  pleasure,  and  not  a  task. 

"Grandfather,"  said  Charley,  "I  am  tired  to  death  of  this 
dismal  rain  and  of  hearing  the  wind  roar  in  the  chimney.  I 
have  had  no  good  time  all  day.  It  would  be  better  to  hear 
stories  about  the  chair  than  to  sit  doing  nothing  and  thinking 
of  nothing." 

To  say  the  truth,  our  friend  Charley  was  very  much  out  of 
humor  with  the  storm,  because  it  had  kept  him  all  day  within 
doors,  and  hindered  him  from  making  a  trial  of  a  splendid  sled, 
which  Grandfather  had  given  him  for  a  New  Year's  gift.  As 
all  sleds,  nowadays,  must  have  a  name,  the  one  in  question 
had  been  honored  with  the  title  of  Grandfather's  Chair,  which 
was  painted  in  golden  letters  on  each  of  the  sides.  Charley 
greatly  admired  the  construction  of  the  new  vehicle,  and  felt 
certain  that  it  would  outstrip  any  other  sled  that  ever  dashed 
down  the  long  slopes  of  the  Common. 

As  for  Laurence,  he  happened  to  be  thinking,  just  at  this 
moment  about  the  history  of  the  chair.  Kind  old  Grandfather 
had  made  him  a  present  of  a  volume  of  engraved  portraits, 
representing  the  features  of  eminent  and  famous  people  of  all 
countries.  Among  them  Laurence  found  several  who  had 
formerly  occupied  our  chair  or  been  connected  with  its  adven- 
tures. While  Grandfather  walked  to  and  fro  across  the  room, 
the  imaginative  boy  was  gazing  at  the  historic  chair.  He 
endeavored  to  summon  up  the  portraits  which  he  had  seen  in 
his  volume,  and  to  place  them,  like  living  figures,  in  the 
empty  seat. 

"The  old  chair  has  begun  another  year  of  its  existence, 
to-day,"  said  Laurence.  "We  must  make  haste,  or  it  will 
have  a  new  history  to  be  told  before  we  finish  the  old  one." 

"Yes,  my  children,"  replied  Grandfather  with  a  smile  and 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  109 

a  sigh,  "another  year  has  been  added  to  those  of  the  two  hun- 
dred and  ten  which  have  passed  since  the  Lady  Arbella 
brought  this  chair  over  from  England.  It  is  three  times  as 
old  as  your  Grandfather;  but  a  year  makes  no  impression  on 
its  oaken  frame,  while  it  bends  the  old  man  nearer  and  nearer 
to  the  earth ;  so  let  me  go  on  with  my  stories  while  I  may. " 

Accordingly,  Grandfather  came  to  the  fireside  and  seated 
himself  in  the  venerable  chair.  The  lion's  head  looked  down 
with  a  grimly  good-natured  aspect  as  the  children  clustered 
around  the  old  gentleman's  knees.  It  almost  seemed  as  if  a 
real  lion  were  peeping  over  the  back  of  the  chair,  and  smiling 
at  the  group  of  auditors  with  a  sort  of  lion-like  complaisance. 
Lit  tie  Alice,  whose  fancy  often  inspired  her  with  singular 
ideas,  exclaimed  that  the  lion's  head  was  nodding  at  her,  and 
that  it  looked  as  if  it  were  going  to  open  its  wide  jaws  and  tell 
a  story. 

But  as  the  lion's  head  appeared  to  be  in  no  haste  to  speak, 
and  as  there  was  no  record  or  tradition  of  its  having  spoken 
during  the  whole  existence  of  the  chair,  Grandfather  did  not 
consider  it  worth  while  to  wait. 


CHAPTER   II 

"Charley,  my  boy,"  said  Grandfather,  "do  you  remember 
who  was  the  last  occupant  of  the  chair?" 

"It  was  Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchinson,"  answered 
Charley.  "Sir  Francis  Bernard,  the  new  governor,  had  given 
him  the  chair,  instead  of  putting  it  away  in  the  garret  of  the 
Province  House.  And  when  we  took  leave  of  Hutchinson  he 
was  sitting  by  his  fireside,  and  thinking  of  the  past  adventures 
of  the  chair  and  of  what  was  to  come." 

"Very  well,"  said  Grandfather;  "and  you  recollect  that  this 
was  in  1763,  or  thereabouts,  at  the  close  of  the  Old  French 
War.      Now,   that  you  may  fully  comprehend  the  remaining 


110  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

adventures  of  the  chair,  I  must  make  some  brief  remarks  on 
the  situation  and  character  of  the  New  England  colonies  at 
this  period." 

So  Grandfather  spoke  of  the  earnest  loyalty  of  our  fathers 
during  the  Old  French  War,  and  after  the  conquest  of  Canada 
had  brought  that  war  to  a  triumphant  close. 

The  people  loved  and  reverenced  the  King  of  England  even 
more  than  if  the  ocean  had  not  rolled  its  waves  between  him 
and  them;  for,  at  the  distance  of  three  thousand  miles,  they 
could  not  discover  his  bad  qualities  and  imperfections.  Their 
love  was  increased  by  the  dangers  which  they  had  encountered 
in  order  to  heighten  his  glory  and  extend  his  dominion. 
Throughout  the  war  the  American  colonists  had  fought  side 
by  side  with  the  soldiers  of  Old  England;  and  nearly  thirty 
thousand  young  men  had  laid  down  their  lives  for  the  honor 
of  King  George.  And  the  survivors  loved  him  the  better 
because  they  had  done  and  suffered  so  much  for  his  sake. 

But  there  were  some  circumstances  that  caused  America  to 
feel  more  independent  of  England  than  at  an  earlier  period. 
Canada  and  Acadia  had  now  become  British  provinces;  and 
our  fathers  were  no  longer  afraid  of  the  bands  of  French  and 
Indians  who  used  to  assault  them  in  old  times.  For  a  century 
and  a  half  this  had  been  the  great  terror  of  New  England. 
Now  the  old  French  soldier  was  driven  from  the  north  forever. 
And,  even  had  it  been  otherwise,  the  English  colonies  were 
growing  so  populous  and  powerful  that  they  might  have  felt 
fully  able  to  protect  themselves  without  any  help  from  Eng- 
land. 

There  were  thoughtful  and  sagacious  men,  who  began  to 
doubt  whether  a  great  country  like  America  would  always  be 
content  to  remain  under  the  government  of  an  island  three 
thousand  miles  away.  This  was  the  more  doubtful,  because 
the  English  Parliament  had  long  ago  made  laws  which  were 
intended  to  be  very  beneficial  to  England  at  the  expense  of 
America.     By  these  laws  the  colonists  were  forbidden  to  man- 


112  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

ufacture  articles  for  their  own  use,  or  to  carry  on  trade  with 
any  nation  but  the  English. 

"Now,"  continued  Grandfather,  "if  King  George  the  Third 
and  his  counselors  had  considered  these  things  wisely,  they 
would  have  taken  another  course  than  they  did.  But  when 
they  saw  how  rich  and  populous  the  colonies  had  grown,  their 
first  thought  was  how  they  might  make  more  profit  out  of 
them  than  heretofore.  England  was  enormously  in  debt  at 
the  close  of  the  Old  French  War;  and  it  was  pretended  that 
this  debt  had  been  contracted  for  the  defense  of  the  American 
colonies,  and  that,  therefore,  a  part  of  it  ought  to  be  paid  by 
them. " 

"Why,  this  was  nonsense,"  exclaimed  Charley.  "Did  not 
our  fathers  spend  their  lives  and  money  to  get  Canada  for 
King  George?" 

"True,  they  did,"  said  Grandfather;  "and  they  told  the 
English  rulers  so.  But  the  king  and  his  ministers  would  not 
listen  to  good  advice.  In  1765  the  British  Parliament  passed 
a  Stamp  Act. " 

"What  was  that?"  inquired  Charley. 

"The  Stamp  Act,"  replied  Grandfather,  "was  a  law  by 
which  all  deeds,  bonds,  and  other  papers  of  the  same  kind 
were  ordered  to  be  marked  with  the  king's  stamp,  and  with- 
out this  mark  they  were  declared  illegal  and  void.  Now,  in 
order  to  get  a  blank  sheet  of  paper  with  the  king's  stamp  upon 
it,  people  were  obliged  to  pay  threepence  more  than  the  actual 
value  of  the  paper.  And  this  extra  sum  of  threepence  was  a 
tax,  and  was  to  be  paid  into  the  king's  treasury." 

"I  am  sure  threepence  was  not  worth  quarreling  about!" 
remarked  Clara. 

"It  was  not  for  threepence,  nor  for  any  amount  of  money, 
that  America  quarreled  with  England,"  replied  Grandfather; 
"it  was  for  a  great  principle.  The  colonists  were  determined 
not  to  be  taxed  except  by  their  own  representatives.  And 
rather  than  pay  threepence,  when  it  was  unjustly  demanded, 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  H3 

they  resolved  to  sacrifice  all  the  wealth  of  the  country,  and 
their  lives  along  with  it.  They  therefore  made  a  most  stub- 
born resistance  to  the  Stamp  Act." 

"That  was  noble!"  exclaimed  Laurence.  "I  understand  how 
it  was.  If  they  paid  the  tax  of  threepence,  they  would  have 
ceased  to  be  freemen,  and  would  have  become  tributaries  of 
England.  And  so  they  contended  about  a  great  question  of 
right  and  wrong,  and  put  everything  at  stake  for  it." 

"You  are  right,  Laurence,"  said  Grandfather,  "and  it  was 
really  amazing  and  terrible  to  see  what  a  change  came  over  the 
aspect  of  the  people  the  moment  the  English  Parliament  had 
passed  this  oppressive  act.  The  former  history  of  our  chair, 
my  children,  has  given  you  some  idea  of  what  a  harsh, 
unyielding,  stern  set  of  men  the  old  Puritans  were.  For  a 
good  many  years  back,  however,  it  had  seemed  as  if  these 
characteristics  were  disappearing.  But  no  sooner  did  England 
offer  wrong  to  the  colonies  than  the  descendants  of  the  early 
settlers  proved  that  they  had  the  same  kind  of  temper  as  their 
forefathers.  The  moment  before,  New  England  appeared  like 
a  humble  and  loyal  subject  of  the  crown;  the  next  instant,  she 
showed  the  grim,  dark  features  of  an  old  king-resisting 
Puritan." 

Grandfather  spoke  briefly  of  the  public  measures  that  were 
taken  in  opposition  to  the  Stamp  Act.  As  this  law  affected 
all  the  American  colonies  alike,  it  naturally  led  them  to  think 
of  consulting  together  in  order  to  procure  its  repeal.  For 
this  purpose  the  Legislature  of  Massachusetts  proposed  that 
delegates  from  every  colony  should  meet  in  Congress.  Accord- 
ingly, nine  colonies,  both  northern  and  southern,  sent  dele- 
gates to  the  city  of  New  York. 

"And  did  they  consult  about  going  to  war  with  England?" 
asked  Charley. 

"No,  Charley,"  answered  Grandfather;  "a  great  deal  of 
talking  was  yet  to  be  done  before  England  and  America  could 
come  to  blows.       The  Congress  stated  the  rights  and  griev- 

8  Chair 


GRANDFATHER'S   CHAIR 


AMERICAN    RIFLEMAN 


ances  of  the  colonies.  They  sent 
an  humble  petition  to  the  king, 
and  a  memorial  to  the  Parliament, 
beseeching  that  the  Stamp  Act 
might  be  repealed.  This  was  all 
that  the  delegates  had  it  in  their 
power  to  do." 

' '  They  might  as  well  have  stayed 
at  home,  then,  "  said  Charley.  "By 
no  means,"  replied  Grandfather. 
"It  was  a  most  important  and 
memorable  event,  —  this  first 
coming  together  of  the  American 
people  by  their  representatives 
from  the  north  and  south.  If 
England  had  been  wise,  she  would 
have  trembled  at  the  first  word 
that  was  spoken  in  such  an  assem- 
bly!" 

These  remonstrances  and  peti- 
tions, as  Grandfather  observed, 
were  the  work  of  grave,  thought- 
ful, and  prudent  men.  Meantime 
the  young  and  hot-headed  people 
went  to  work  in  their  own  way. 
It  is  probable  that  the  petitions  of 
Congress  would  have  had  little  or 
no  effect  on  the  British  statesmen 
if  the  violent  deeds  of  the  Ameri- 
can people  had  not  shown  how 
much  excited  the  people  were. 
Liberty  Tree  was  soon  heard  of 
in  England. 

"What  was  Liberty  Tree?"  in- 
quired Clara. 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


"It  was  an  old  elm  tree," 
answered  Grandfather,  "which 
stood  near  the  corner  of  Essex 
Street,  opposite  the  Boylston 
Market.  Under  the  spreading 
branches  of  this  great  tree  the 
people  used  to  assemble  whenever 
they  wished  to  express  their  feel- 
ings and  opinions.  Thus,  after  a 
while,  it  seemed  as  if  the  liberty 
of  the  country  was  connected  with 
Liberty  Tree. " 

"It  was  glorious  fruit  for  a  tree 
to  bear,"  remarked  Laurence. 

"It  bore  strange  fruit,  some- 
times," said  Grandfather.  "One 
morning  in  August,  1765,  two 
figures  were  found  hanging  on  the 
sturdy  branches  of  Libert)7  Tree. 
They  were  dressed  in  square- 
skirted  coats  and  small-clothes; 
and,  as  their  wigs  hung  down  over 
their  faces,  they  looked  like  real 
men.  One  was  intended  to  repre- 
sent the  Earl  of  Bute,  who  was 
supposed  to  have  advised  the  king 
to  tax  America.  The  other  was 
meant  for  the  effigy  of  Andrew 
Oliver,  a  gentleman  belonging  to 
one  of  the  most  respectable  fami- 
lies in  Massachusetts." 

"What  harm  had  he  done?" 
inquired  Charley  "The  king  had 
appointed  him  distributer  of  the 
stamps,"   answered  Grandfather. 


BRITISH    GRENADIER 


116  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

"Oliver  would  have  made  a  great  deal  of  money  by  this 
business.  But  the  people  frightened  him  so  much  by  hanging 
him  in  effigy,  and  afterwards  by  breaking  into  his  house,  that 
he  promised  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  stamps.  And  all 
the  king's  friends  throughout  America  were  compelled  to 
make  the  same  promise." 


CHAPTER    III 

"Hutchinson,"  continued  Grandfather,  "now  began  to  be 
unquiet  in  our  old  chair.  He  had  formerly  been  much 
respected  and  beloved  by  the  people,  and  had  often  proved 
himself  a  friend  to  their  interests.  But  the  time  was  come 
when  he  could  not  be  a  friend  to  the  people  without  ceasing 
to  be  a  friend  to  the  king.  It  was  pretty  generally  understood 
that  Hutchinson  would  act  according  to  the  king's  wishes, 
right  or  wrong,  like  most  of  the  other  gentlemen  who  held 
offices  under  the  crown." 

"I  should  think,"  said  Laurence,  "as  Hutchinson  had  writ- 
ten the  history  of  our  Puritan  forefathers,  he  would  have 
known  what  the  temper  of  the  people  was,  and  so  have  taken 
care  not  to  wrong  them.  " 

"He  trusted  in  the  might  of  the  King  of  England,"  replied 
Grandfather,  "and  thought  himself  safe  under  the  shelter 
of  the  throne.  If  no  dispute  had  arisen  between  the  king  and 
the  people,  Hutchinson  would  have  had  the  character  of  a 
wise,  good,  and  patriotic  magistrate.  But,  from  the  time  that 
he  took  part  against  the  rights  of  his  country,  the  people's  love 
and  respect  were  turned  to  scorn  and  hatred,  and  he  never  had 
another  hour  of  peace." 

In  order  to  show  what  a  fierce  and  dangerous  spirit  was  now 
aroused  among  the  inhabitants,  Grandfather  related  a  pas- 
sage from  history  which  we  shall  call 


118  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


THE    HUTCHINSON    MOB 


On  the  evening  of  Aug.  26,  1765,  a  bonfire  was  kindled  in 
King  Street.  It  flamed  high  upward,  and  threw  a  ruddy  light 
over  the  front  of  the  Town  House,  on  which  was  displayed  a 
carved  representation  of  the  royal  arms.  The  gilded  vane  of 
the  cupola  glittered  in  the  blaze.  The  kindling  of  this  bonfire 
was  the  well-known  signal  for  the  populace  of  Boston  to 
assemble  in  the  street. 

Before  the  tar-barrels,  of  which  the  bonfire  was  made,  were 
half  burned  out,  a  great  crowd  had  come  together.  They  were 
chiefly  laborers  and  seafaring  men,  together  with  young 
apprentices,  and  all  those  idle  people  about  town  who  are  ready 
for  any  kind  of  mischief.  Doubtless  some  school-boys  were 
among  them. 

While  these  rough  figures  stood  round  the  blazing  bonfire, 
you  might  hear  them  speaking  bitter  words  against  the  high 
officers  of  the  province.  Governor  Bernard,  Hutchinson, 
Oliver,  Storey,  Hallowell,  and  other  men  whom  King  George 
delighted  to  honor,  were  reviled  as  traitors  to  the  country. 
Now  and  then  an  officer  of  the  crown  passed  along  the  street 
wearing  the  gold-laced  hat,  white  wig,  and  embroidered  waist- 
coat which  were  the  fashion  of  the  day.  But  when  the  people 
beheld  him  they  set  up  a  wild  and  angry  howl,  and  their  faces 
had  an  evil  aspect,  which  was  made  more  terrible  by  the 
flickering  blaze  of  the  bonfire. 

"I  should  like  to  throw  the  traitor  right  into  that  blaze!" 
perhaps  one  fierce  rioter  would  say.  "Yes;  and  all  his  breth- 
ren too!"  another  might  reply;  "and  the  governor  and  old 
Tommy  Hutchinson  into  the  hottest  of  it." 

"And  the  Earl  of  Bute  along  with  them!"  muttered  the 
third ;  "and  burn  the  whole  pack  of  them  under  King  George's 
nose!     No  matter  if  it  singed  him!" 

Some  such  expressions  as  these  either  shouted  aloud  or  mut 
tered  under  the  breath  were  doubtless  heard  in  King  Street. 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  119 

The  mob  meanwhile  were  growing  fiercer  and  seemed  ready 
even  to  set  the  town  on  fire  for  the  sake  of  burning  the  king's 
friends  out  of  house  and  home.  And  yet  angry  as  they  were 
they  sometimes  broke  into  a  loud  roar  of  laughter  as  if  mis- 
chief and  destruction  were  their  sport. 

But  we  must  now  leave  the  rioters  for  a  time  and  take  a 
peep  into  the  lieutenant-governor's  splendid  mansion.  It  was 
a  large  brick  house  decorated  with  Ionic  pilasters  and  stood  in 
Garden  Court  Street  near  the  North  Square. 

While  the  angry  mob  in  King  Street  were  shouting  his 
name,  Hutchinson  sat  quietly  in  Grandfather's  chair  unsus- 
picious of  the  evil  that  was  about  to  fall  upon  his  head.  His 
family  were  in  the  room  with  him.  He  had  thrown  off  his 
embroidered  coat  and  powdered  wig,  and  had  on  a  loose  flow- 
ing gown  and  purple  velvet  cap.  He  had  likewise  laid  aside 
the  cares  of  state  and  all  the  thoughts  that  had  wearied  and 
perplexed  him  throughout  the  day. 

Perhaps,  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  home,  he  had  forgotten  all 
about  the  Stamp  Act,  and  scarcely  remembered  that  there 
was  a  king,  across  the  ocean,  who  had  resolved  to  make  tribu- 
taries of  the  New  Englanders.  Possibly,  too,  he  had  forgotten 
his  own  ambition,  and  would  not  have  exchanged  his  situation, 
at  that  moment,  to  be  governor,  or  even  a  lord. 

The  wax  candles  were  now  lighted,  and  showed  a  handsome 
room,  well  provided  with  rich  furniture.  On  the  walls  hung 
the  pictures  of  Hutchinson's  ancestors,  who  had  been  eminent 
men  in  their  day,  and  were  honorably  remembered  in  the  his- 
tory of  the  country.  Every  object  served  to  mark  the  resi- 
dence of  a  rich,  aristocratic  gentleman,  who  held  himself  high 
above  the  common  people,  and  could  have  nothing  to  fear  from 
them.  In  one  corner  of  the  room,  thrown  carelessly  upon  a 
chair,  were  the  scarlet  robes  of  the  chief  justice.  This  high 
office,  as  well  as  those  of  lieutenant-governor,  counselor,  and 
judge  of  probate,  was  filled  by  Hutchinson. 

Who  or  what  could  disturb  the  domestic  quiet  of  such  a 


120  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

great  and  powerful  personage  as  now  sat  in  Grandfather's 
chair! 

The  lieutenant-governor's  favorite  daughter  sat  by  his  side. 
She  leaned  on  the  arm  of  our  great  chair.  Suddenly  a  shade 
came  across  her  countenance.  She  seemed  to  listen  atten- 
tively, as  if  to  catch  a  distant  sound. 

"What  is  the  matter,  my  child?"  inquired  Hutchinson. 
"Father,  do  not  you  hear  a  tumult  in  the  streets?"  said  she. 
The  lieutenant-governor  listened.  But  his  ears  were  duller 
than  those  of  his  daughter;  he  could  hear  nothing  more  ter- 
rible than  the  sound  of  a  summer  breeze,  sighing  among  the 
tops  of  the  elm  trees. 

"No,  foolish  child!"  he  replied,  playfully  patting  her  cheek. 
"There  is  no  tumult.  Our  Boston  mobs  are  satisfied  with 
what  mischief  they  have  already  done.  The  king's  friends 
need  not  tremble." 

So  Hutchinson  resumed  his  pleasant  meditations,  and  forgot 
that  there  were  any  troubles  in  the  world.  But  his  family 
were  alarmed,  and  could  not  help  straining  their  ears  to  catch 
the  slightest  sound.  More  and  more  distinctly  they  heard 
shouts,  and  then  trampling  of  many  feet.  While  they  were 
listening,  one  of  the  neighbors  rushed  breathless  into  the  room. 

"A  mob! — a  terrible  mob!"  cried  he.  "They  have  broken 
into  Storey's  house,  and  into  Hallowell's,  and  have  made 
themselves  drunk  with  the  liquors  in  his  cellar;  and  now  they 
are  coming  hither,  as  wild  as  so  many  tigers.  Flee,  governor, 
for  your  life!" 

"Father,  dear  father,  make  haste!"  shrieked  his  children. 
But  Hutchinson  would  not  hearken  to  them.  He  was  an  old 
lawyer;  and  he  could  not  realize  that  the  people  would  do  any- 
thing so  utterly  lawless  as  to  assault  him  in  his  peaceful  home. 
He  was  one  of  King  George's  chief  officers;  and  it  would  be 
an  insult  and  outrage  upon  the  king  himself  if  the  lieutenant- 
governor  should  suffer  any  wrong. 

"Have  no  fears  on  my  account,"  said  he;  "1  am  perfectly 


122  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

safe.  The  king's  name  shall  be  my  protection. "  Yet  he  bade 
his  family  retire  into  one  of  the  neighboring  houses.  His 
daughter  would  have  remained,  but  he  forced  her  away. 

The  huzzas  and  riotous  uproar  of  the  mob  were  now  heard, 
close  at  hand.  The  sound  was  terrible,  and  struck  Hutchin- 
son with  the  same  sort  of  dread  as  if  an  enraged  wild  beast 
had  broken  loose  and  were  roaring  for  its  prey.  He  crept 
softly  to  the  window.  There  he  beheld  an  immense  concourse 
of  people,  filling  all  the  streets  and  rolling  onward  to  his 
house.  It  was  like  a  tempestuous  flood,  that  had  swelled 
beyond  its  bounds  and  would  sweep  everything  before  it. 
Hutchinson  trembled;  he  felt,  at  that  moment,  that  the  wrath 
of  the  people  was  a  thousand-fold  more  terrible  than  the  wrath 
of  a  king. 

That  was  a  moment  when  a  loyalist  and  an  aristocrat  like 
Hutchinson  might  have  learned  how  powerless  are  kings, 
nobles,  and  great  men,  when  the  low  and  humble  range  them- 
selves against  them.  King  George  could  do  nothing  for  his 
servant  now.  Had  the  King  been  there  he  could  have  done 
nothing  for  himself.  If  Hutchinson  had  understood  this  les- 
son, and  remembered  it,  he  need  not,  in  after  years,  have 
been  exiled  from  his  native  country,  nor  finally  have  laid  his 
bones  in  a  distant  land. 

There  was  now  a  rush  against  the  doors  of  the  house.  The 
people  sent  up  a  discordant  cryT.  At  this  instant  the  lieuten- 
ant-governor's daughter,  whom  he  had  supposed  to  be  in  a 
place  of  safety,  ran  into  the  room  and  threw  her  arms  around 
him.  She  had  returned  by  a  private  entrance.  "Father,  are 
you  mad?"  cried  she.  "Will  the  king's  name  protect  you  now? 
Come  with  me,  or  they  will  have  your  life." 

"True,"  muttered  Hutchinson  to  himself;  "what  care  these 
roarers  for  the  name  of  the  king?  I  must  flee,  or  they  will 
trample  me  down  on  the  door  of  my  own  dwelling!" 

Hurrying  away,  he  and  his  daughter  made  their  escape  by 
the  private  passage  at  the  moment  when  the  rioters  broke  into 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  123 

the  house.  The  foremost  of  them  rushed  up  the  staircase  and 
entered  the  room  which  Hutchinson  had  just  quitted. 

Then  began  the  work  of  destruction.  The  carved  and  pol- 
ished mahogany  tables  were  shattered  with  heavy  clubs  and 
hewn  to  splinters  with  axes.  The  marble  hearths  and  mantel- 
pieces were  broken.  The  volumes  of  Hutchinson's  library,  so 
precious  to  a  studious  man,  were  torn  out  of  their  covers,  and 
the  leaves  sent  flying  out  of  the  windows.  Manuscripts,  con- 
taining secrets  of  our  country's  history  which  are  now  lost  for- 
ever, were  scattered  to  the  winds.  The  old  ancestral  por- 
traits, whose  fixed  countenances  looked  down  on  the  wild 
scene,  were  rent  from  the  walls.  The  mob  triumphed  in  their 
downfall  and  destruction,  as.  if  these  pictures  of  Hutchinson's 
forefathers  had  committed  the  same  offenses  as  their  descend- 
ant. 

Before  morning  dawned  the  walls  of  the  house  were  all  that 
remained.  The  interior  was  a  dismal  scene  of  ruin.  A 
shower  pattered  in  at  the  broken  windows;  and  when  Hutch- 
inson and  his  family  returned,  they  stood  shivering  in  the 
same  room  where  the  last  evening  had  seen  them  so  peaceful 
and  happy. 


"Grandfather,"  said  Laurence,  indignantly,  "if  the  people 
acted  in  this  manner,  they  were  not  worthy  of  even  so  much 
liberty  as  the  king  of  England  was  willing  to  allow  them." 

"It  was  a  most  unjustifiable  act,  like  many  other  popular 
movements  at  that  time,"  replied  Grandfather.  "But  we  must 
not  decide  against  the  justice  of  the  people's  cause  merely 
because  an  excited  mob  was  guilty  of  outrageous  violence. 
Besides,  all  these  things  were  done  in  the  first  fury  of  resent- 
ment. Afterwards  the  people  grew  more  calm,  and  were 
more  influenced  by  the  counsel  of  those  wise  and  good  men 
who  conducted  them  safely  and  gloriously  through  the  Revo- 
lution." 


124  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

Little  Alice,  with  tears  in  her  blue  eyes,  said  that  she  hoped 
the  neighbors  had  not  let  Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchinson 
and  his  family  be  homeless  in  the  street,  but  had  taken  them 
into  their  houses  and  been  kind  to  them.  Cousin  Clara,  recol- 
lecting the  perilous  situation  of  our  beloved  chair,  inquired 
what  had  become  of  it. 

"Nothing  was  heard  of  our  chair  for  some  time  afterwards," 
answered  Grandfather.  "One  day  in  September,  the  same 
Andrew  Oliver,  of  whom  1  before  told  you,  was  summoned  to 
appear  at  high  noon  under  Liberty  Tree.  This  was  the 
strangest  summons  that  had  ever  been  heard  of;  for  it  was 
issued  in  the  name  of  the  whole  people,  who  thus  took  upon 
themselves  the  authority  of  a  sovereign  power.  Mr.  Oliver 
dared  not  disobey.  Accordingly,  at  the  appointed  hour  he 
went,  much  against  his  will,  to  Liberty  Tree." 

Here  Charley  interposed  a  remark  that  poor  Mr.  Oliver 
found  but  little  liberty  under  Liberty  Tree.  Grandfather 
assented. 

"It  was  a  stormy  day,"  continued  he.  "The  equinoctial 
gale  blew  violently,  and  scattered  the  yellow  leaves  of  Liberty 
Tree  all  along  the  street.  Mr.  Oliver's  wig  was  dripping  with 
water-drops;  and  he  probably  looked  haggard,  disconsolate, 
and  humbled  to  the  earth.  Beneath  the  tree,  in  Grandfather's 
chair, — our  own  venerable  chair, — sat  Mr.  Richard  Dana,  a 
justice  of  the  peace.  He  administered  an  oath  to  Mr.  Oliver 
that  he  would  never  have  anything  to  do  with  distributing  the 
stamps.  A  vast  concourse  of  people  heard  the  oath,  and 
shouted  when  it  was  taken." 

"There  is  something  grand  in  this,"  said  Laurence.  "I 
like  it  because  the  people  seem  to  have  acted  with  thoughtful- 
ness  and  dignity;  and  this  proud  gentleman,  one  of  his  Maj- 
esty's high  officers,  was  made  to  feel  that  King  George  could 
not  protect  him  in  doing  wrong." 

"But  it  was  a  sad  day  for  poor  Mr.  Oliver, "  observed  Grand- 
father.     "From  his  youth  upward  it  had  probably  been  the 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  125 

great  principle  of  his  life  to  be  faithful  and  obedient  to  the 
king.  And  now,  in  his  old  age,  it  must  have  puzzled  and  dis- 
tracted him  to  find  the  sovereign  people  setting  up  a  claim  to 
his  faith  and  obedience. 

Grandfather  closed  the  evening's  conversation  by  saying 
that  the  discontent  of  America  was  so  great  that,  in  1766,  the 
British  Parliament  was  compelled  to  repeal  the  Stamp  Act. 
The  people  made  great  rejoicings,  but  took  care  to  keep  Lib- 
erty Tree  well  pruned  and  free  from  caterpillars  and  canker 
worms.  They  foresaw  that  there  might  yet  be  occasion  for 
them  to  assemble  under  its  far-projecting  shadow. 


CHAPTER   IV 

The  next  evening,  Clara,  who  remembered  that  our  chair 
had  been  left  standing  in  the  rain  under  Liberty  Tree,  ear- 
nestly besought  Grandfather  to  tell  when  and  where  it  had 
next  found  shelter.  Perhaps  she  was  afraid  that  the  vener- 
able chair,  by  being  exposed  to  the  inclemency  of  a  Septem- 
ber gale,  might  get  the  rheumatism  in  its  aged  joints. 

"The  chair, "  said  Grandfather,  "appears  to  have  been  quite 
forgotten  by  the  multitude.  Indeed,  being  much  bruised  and 
rather  rickety,  owing  to  the  violent  treatment  it  had  suffered 
from  the  Hutchinson  mob,  most  people  would  have  thought 
that  its  days  of  usefulness  were  over.  Nevertheless,  it  was 
conveyed  away  under  cover  of  the  night  and  committed  to 
the  care  of  a  skilful  joiner.  He  doctored  our  old  friend  so 
successfully  that,  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  it  made  its 
appearance  in  the  public  room  of  the  British  Coffee  House,  in 
King  Street." 

"But  why  did  not  Hutchinson  get  possession  of  it  again?" 
inquired  Charley. 

"I  know  not,"  answered  Grandfather,  "unless  he  considereu 
it  a  dishonor  and  disgrace  to  the  chair  to  have  stood  under 


126 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


PATRIOT  SOLDIER  UNDER  ARMS 


Liberty  Tree.  At  all  events,  he 
suffered  it  to  remain  at  the  Coffee 
House,  which  was  the  principal 
hotel  in  Boston.  It  could  not 
possibly  have  found  a  situation 
where  it  would  be  more  in  the 
midst  of  business  or  bustle,  or 
would  witness  more  important 
events,  or  be  occupied  by  a  greater 
variety  of  persons." 

Grandfather  went  on  to  tell  the 
proceedings  of  the  despotic  king 
and  ministry  of  England  after  the 
repeal  of  the  Stamp  Act.  They 
could  hot  bear  to  think  that  their 
right  to  tax  America  should  be 
disputed  by  the  people.  In  the 
year  1767,  therefore,  they  caused 
Parliament  to  pass  an  act  for  laying 
a  duty  on  tea  and  some  articles 
that  were  in  general  use.  Nobody 
could  now  buy  a  pound  of  tea 
without  paying  a  tax  to  King 
George.  This  scheme  was  pretty 
craftily  contrived;  for  the  women 
of  America  were  very  fond  of  tea, 
and  did  not  like  to  give  up  the 
use  of  it. 

But  the  people  were  as  much 
opposed  to  this  new  act  of  Parlia- 
ment as  they  had  been  to  the 
Stamp  Act.  England,  however, 
was  determined  that  they  should 
submit.  In  order  to  compel  their 
obedience,  two  regiments,  consist- 


JOHN  HANCOCK,  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  CONTINENTAL  CONGRESS 


128  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

ing  of  more  than  seven  hundred  British  soldiers,  were  sent  to 
Boston.  They  arrived  in  September,  1768,  and  were  landed  on 
Long  Wharf.  Thence  they  marched  to  the  Common  with 
loaded  muskets,  fixed  bayonets,  and  great  pomp  and  parade. 
So  now,  at  last,  the  free  town  of  Boston  was  guarded  and  over- 
awed by  red-coats  as  it  had  been  in  the  days  of  old  Sir  Edmund 
Andros.  In  the  month  of  November  more  regiments  arrived. 
There  were  now  four  thousand  troops  in  Boston.  The  Com- 
mon was  whitened  with  their  tents.  Some  of  the  soldiers 
were  lodged  in  Faneuil  Hall,  which  the  inhabitants  looked 
upon  as  a  consecrated  place,  because  it  had  been  the  scene  of 
a  great  many  meetings  in  favor  of  liberty.  One  regiment  was 
placed  in  the  Town  House,  which  we  now  call  the  Old  State 
House.  The  lower  floor  of  the  edifice  had  hitherto  been  used 
by  the  merchants  as  an  exchange.  In  the  upper  stories  were 
the  chambers  of  the  judges,  the  representatives,  and  the  gov- 
ernor's council.  The  venerable  counselors  could  not  assemble 
to  consult  about  the  welfare  of  the  province  without  being 
challenged  by  sentinels  and  passing  among  the  bayonets  of 
the  British  soldiers. 

Sentinels,  likewise,  were  posted  at  the  lodgings  of  the 
officers  in  many  parts  of  the  town.  When  the  inhabitants 
approached  they  were  greeted  by  the  sharp  question — "Who 
goes  there?" — while  the  rattle  of  the  soldier's  musket  was 
heard  as  he  presented  it  against  their  breasts.  There  was  no 
quiet  even  on  the  Sabbath  day.  The  pious  descendants  of  the 
Puritans  were  shocked  by  the  uproar  of  military  music:  the 
drum,  the  fife,  and  bugle  drowning  the  holy  organ  peal  and 
the  voices  of  the  singers.  It  would  appear  as  if  the  British 
took  every  method  to  insult  the  feelings  of  the  people. 

"Grandfather,"  cried  Charley,  impatiently,  "the  people  did 
not  go  to  fighting  half  soon  enough!  These  British  red-coats 
ought  to  have  been  driven  back  to  their  vessels  the  very 
moment  they  landed  on  Long  Wharf." 

"Many  a  hot-headed  young  man  said  the  same  as  you  do, 


9  Chair 


130  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

Charley,"  answered  Grandfather.  "But  the  elder  and  wiser 
people  saw  that  the  time  was  not  yet  come.  Meanwhile,  let 
us  take  another  peep  at  our  old  chair." 

"Ah,  it  drooped  its  head,  I  know,"  said  Charley;  "when  it 
saw  how  the  province  was  disgraced.  Its  old  Puritan  friends 
never  would  have  borne  such  doings." 

"The  chair,"  proceeded  Grandfather,  "was  now  continually 
occupied  by  some  of  the  high  tories,  as  the  king's  friends  were 
called,  who  frequented  the  Coffee  House.  Officers  of  the 
Custom  House,  too,  which  stood  on  the  opposite  side  of  King 
Street,  often  sat  in  the  chair,  wagging  their  tongues  against 
John  Hancock." 

"Why  against  him?"  asked  Charley.  "Because  he  was  a 
great  merchant  and  contended  against  paying  duties  to  the 
king,"  said  Grandfather. 

"Well,  frequently,  no  doubt,  the  officers  of  the  British  regi- 
ments, when  not  on  duty,  used  to  fling  themselves  into  the 
arms  of  our  venerable  chair.  Fancy  one  of  them,  a  red-nosed 
captain  in  his  scarlet  uniform,  playing  with  the  hilt  of  his 
sword,  and  making  a  circle  of  his  brother  officers  merry  with 
ridiculous  jokes  at  the  expense  of  the  poor  Yankees.  And 
perhaps  he  would  call  for  a  bottle  of  wine,  or  a  steaming  bowl 
of  punch,  and  drink  confusion  to  all  rebels." 

"Our  grave  old  chair  must  have  been  scandalized  at  such 
scenes,"  observed  Laurence;  "the  chair  that  had  been  the 
Lady  Arbella's,  and  which  the  holy  Apostle  Elliot  had  con- 
secrated." 

"It  certainly  was  little  less  than  sacrilege,"  replied  Grand- 
father, "but  the  time  was  coming  when  even  the  churches, 
where  hallowed  pastors  had  long  preached  the  word  of  God, 
were  to  be  torn  down  or  desecrated  by  the  British  troops. 
Some  years  passed,  however,  before  such  things  were  done." 

Grandfather  told  his  auditors  that,  in  1769,  Sir  Francis 
Bernard  went  to  England  after  having  been  governor  of  Mas- 
sachusetts ten  years.      He    was   a  gentleman  of   many   good 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  131 

qualities,  an  excellent  scholar,  and  a  friend  to  learning.  But 
he  was  naturally  of  an  arbitrary  disposition;  and  he  had  been 
bred  at  the  University  of  Oxford,  where  young  men  were 
taught  that  the  divine  right  of  kings  was  the  only  thing  to  be 
regarded  in  matters  of  government.  Such  ideas  were  ill 
adapted  to  please  the  people  of  Massachusetts.  They  rejoiced 
to  get  rid  of  Sir  Francis  Bernard,  but  liked  his  successor, 
Lieutenant-Governor  Hutchinson,  no  better  than  himself. 

About  this  period  the  people  were  much  incensed  at  an  act 
committed  by  a  person  who  held  an  office  in  the  Custom 
House.  Some  lads,  or  young  men,  were  snowballing  his 
windows.  He  fired  a  musket  at  them,  and  killed  a  poor  Ger- 
man boy,  only  eleven  years  old.  This  event  made  a  great 
noise  in  town  and  country,  and  much  increased  the  resent- 
ment that  was  already  felt  against  the  servants  of  the  crown. 

"Now,  children,"  said  Grandfather,  "1  wish  to  make  you 
comprehend  the  position  of  the  British  troops  in  King  Street. 
This  is  the  same  which  we  now  call  State  Street.  On  the 
south  side  of  the  Old  State  House  was  what  military  men  call 
a  court  of  guard,  defended  by  two  brass  cannons,  which 
pointed  directly  at  one  of  the  doors  of  the  above  edifice.  A 
large  party  of  soldiers  were  always  stationed  in  the  court  of 
guard.  The  Custom  House  stood  at  a  little  distance  down 
King  Street,  and  a  sentinel  was  continually  pacing  before  its 
front." 

"I  shall  remember  this  to-morrow, "  said  Charley;  "and  I 
will  go  to  State  Street,  so  as  to  see  exactly  where  the  British 
troops  were  stationed." 

"And  before  long,"  observed  Grandfather,  "I  shall  have  to 
relate  an  event  which  made  King  Street  sadly  famous  on  both 
sides  of  the  Atlantic.  The  history  of  our  chair  will  soon  bring 
us  to  this  melancholy  business." 

Here  Grandfather  described  the  state  of  things  which  arose 
from  the  ill  will  that  existed  between  the  inhabitants  and  the 
red-coats.      The  old  and  sober  part  of  the  towns-people  were 


132  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

very  angry  at  the  government  for  sending  soldiers  to  overawe 
them.  But  those  gray-headed  men  were  cautious,  and  kept 
their  thoughts  and  feelings  in  their  own  breasts,  without 
putting  themselves  in  the  way  of  the  British  bayonets.  The 
younger  people,  however,  could  hardly  be  kept  within  such 
prudent  limits. 

"It  was  sometimes  the  case,"  continued  Grandfather,  "that 
affrays  happened  between  such  wild  young  men  as  these  and 
small  parties  of  the  soldiers.  No  weapons  had  hitherto  been 
used  except  fists  or  cudgels.  But  when  men  have  loaded 
muskets  in  their  hands,  it  is  easy  to  foretell  that  they  will  soon 
be  turned  against  the  bosoms  of  those  who  provoke  their 
anger." 

"Grandfather,"  said  little  Alice,  looking  fearfully  into  his 
face,  "your  voice  sounds  as  though  you  were  going  to  tell  us 
something  awful!" 

CHAPTER    V 

Little  Alice,  by  her  last  remark,  proved  herself  a  good  judge 
of  what  was  expressed  by  the  tones  of  Grandfather's  voice. 
He  had  given  the  above  description  of  the  enmity  between 
the  towns-people  and  the  soldiers  in  order  to  prepare  the 
minds  of  his  auditors  for  a  very  terrible  event.  It  was  one 
that  did  more  to  heighten  the  quarrel  between  England  and 
America  than  anything  that  had  yet  occurred. 

Without  further  preface,  Grandfather  began  the  story  of 
what  has  been  called 

THE    BOSTON    MASSACRE 

It  was  now  March  3,  1770.  The  sunset  music  of  the  British 
regiments  was  heard  as  usual  throughout  the  town.  The 
shrill  fife  and  rattling  drum  awoke  the  echoes  in  King  Street, 
while  the  last  ray  of  sunshine  was  lingering  on  the  cupola  of 
the  Town  House       And  now  all  the  sentinels  were  posted. 


LORD   HOWE,   COMMANDER   OF  THE   BRITISH   FLEET 


134  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

One  of  them  marched  up  and  down  before  the  Custom  House, 
treading  a  short  path  through  the  snow,  and  longing  for  the 
time  when  he  would  be  dismissed  to  the  warm  fireside  of  the 
guard-room.  Meanwhile,  Captain  Preston  was,  perhaps,  sit- 
ting in  our  great  chair  before  the  hearth  of  the  Coffee  House. 
In  the  course  of  the  evening  there  were  two  or  three  slight 
commotions,  which  seemed  to  indicate  that  trouble  was  at 
hand. 

Small  parties  of  young  men  stood  at  the  corners  of  the 
streets  or  walked  along  the  narrow  pavements.  Squads  of 
soldiers  who  were  dismissed  from  duty  passed  by  them,  shoul- 
der to  shoulder,  with  the  regular  step  which  they  had  learned 
at  the  drill.  Whenever  these  encounters  took  place,  it 
appeared  to  be  the  object  of  the  young  men  to  treat  the  sol- 
diers with  as  much  incivility  as  possible. 

"Turn  out,  you  lobster-backs!"  one  would  say. 

"Crowd  them  off  the  sidewalks!"  another  would  cry.  "A 
red-coat  has  no  right  in  Boston  streets!" 

"Oh,  you  rebel  rascals!"  perhaps  the  soldiers  would  reply, 
glaring  fiercely  at  the  young  men.  "Some  day  or  other  we'll 
make  our  way  through  Boston  streets  at  the  point  of  the  bay- 
onet. " 

Once  or  twice  such  disputes  as  these  brought  on  a  scuffle; 
which  passed  off,  however,  without  attracting  much  notice. 
About  eight  o'clock,  for  some  unknown  cause,  an  alarm-bell 
rang  loudly  and  hurriedly. 

At  the  sound  many  people  ran  out  of  their  houses,  suppos- 
ing it  to  be  an  alarm  of  fire.  But  there  were  no  flames  to  be 
seen,  nor  was  there  any  smell  of  smoke  in  the  clear,  frosty  air; 
so  that  most  of  the  townsmen  went  back  to  their  own  firesides 
and  sat  talking  with  their  wives  and  children  about  the  calam- 
ities of  the  times.  Others  who  were  younger  and  less  prudent 
remained  in  the  streets;  for  there  seems  to  have  been  a  pre- 
sentiment that  some  strange  event  was  on  the  eve  of  taking 
place. 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  135 

Late  in  the  evening  several  young  men  passed  by  the  Town 
House  and  walked  down  King  Street.  The  sentinel  was  still 
on  his  post  in  front  of  the  Custom  House,  pacing  to  and  fro; 
while,  as  he  turned,  a  gleam  of  light  from  some  neighboring 
window  glittered  on  the  barrel  of  his  musket.  At  no  great 
distance  were  the  barracks  and  the  guard-house,  where  his 
comrades  were  probably  telling  stories  of  battle  and  bloodshed. 

Down  toward  the  Custom  House,  as  I  told  you,  came  a  party 
of  wild  young  men.  When  they  drew  near  the  sentinel  he 
halted  on  his  post,  and  took  his  musket  from  his  shoulder, 
ready  to  present  the  bayonet  at  their  breasts. 

"Who  goes  there?"  he  cried,  in  the  gruff,  peremptory  tones 
of  a  soldier's  challenge. 

The  young  men,  being  Boston  boys,  felt  as  if  they  had  a 
right  to  walk  their  own  streets  without  being  accountable  to  a 
British  red-coat,  even  though  he  challenged  them  in  King 
George's  name.  They  made  some  rude  answer  to  the  sentinel. 
There  was  a  dispute,  or  perhaps  a  scuffle.  Other  soldiers 
heard  the  noise,  and  ran  hastily  from  the  barracks  to  assist 
their  comrades.  At  the  same  time  many  of  the  towns-people 
rushed  into  King  Street  by  various  avenues,  and  gathered  in  a 
crowd  round  about  the  Custom  House.  It  seemed  wonderful 
how  such  a  multitude  had  started  up  all  of  a  sudden. 

The  wrongs  and  insults  which  the  people  had  been  suffering 
for  so  many  months  now  kindled  them  into  a  rage.  They 
threw  snow-balls  and  lumps  of  ice  at  the  soldiers.  As  the 
tumult  grew  louder  it  reached  the  ears  of  Captain  Preston,  the 
officer  of  the  day.  He  ordered  eight  soldiers  of  the  main 
guard  to  take  their  muskets  and  follow  him.  They  forced 
their  way  through  the  crowd,  and  pricked  the  towns-people 
with  their  bayonets. 

A  gentleman  caught  Captain  Preston's  arm.  "For  heaven's 
sake,  sir,"  exclaimed  he,  "take  heed  what  you  do,  or  there 
will  be  bloodshed." 

"Stand  aside!"   answered    Preston,    haughtily.       "Do   not 


136  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

interfere,  sir.  Leave  me  to  manage  the  affair."  Arriving  at 
the  sentinel's  post,  Preston  drew  up  his  men  in  a  semi-circle, 
with  their  faces  to  the  crowd  and  their  rear  to  the  Custom 
House.  When  the  people  saw  the  officer  and  beheld  the  threat- 
ening attitude  with  which  the  soldiers  fronted  them,  their  rage 
became  almost  uncontrollable. 

"Fire,  you  lobster-backs!"  bellowed  some.  "You  dare  not 
fire,  you  cowardly  red-coats!"  cried  others.  "Rush  upon 
them!"  shouted  many  voices.  "Drive  the  rascals  to  their 
barracks!  Down  with  them!  Down  with  them!  Let  them 
fire  if  they  dare!"  Amid  the  uproar,  the  soldiers  stood  glar- 
ing at  the  people  with  the  fierceness  of  men  whose  trade  was 
to  shed  blood. 

Oh,  what  a  crisis  had  now  arrived!  Up  to  this  very 
moment,  the  angry  feelings  between  England  and  America 
might  have  been  pacified.  England  had  but  to  stretch  out 
the  hand  of  reconciliation,  and  acknowledge  that  she  had 
hitherto  mistaken  her  rights,  but  would  do  so  no  more.  The 
habit  of  loyalty  which  had  grown  as  strong  as  instinct  was  not 
utterly  overcome.  The  perils  shared,  the  victories  won,  in  the 
Old  French  War  when  the  soldiers  of  the  colonies  fought  side 
by  side  with  their  comrades  from  beyond  the  sea,  were  unfor- 
gotten  yet.  England  was  still  that  beloved  country  which  the 
colonists  called  their  home.  King  George,  though  he  had 
frowned  upon  America,  was  still  reverenced  as  a  father. 

But  should  the  king's  soldiers  shed  one  drop  of  American 
blood,  then  it  was  a  quarrel  to  the  death.  Never — never  would 
America  rest  satisfied  until  she  had  torn  down  the  royal 
authority  and  trampled  it  in  the  dust. 

"Fire  if  you  dare,  villains!"  hoarsely  shouted  the  people 
while  the  muzzles  of  the  muskets  were  turned  upon  them; 
"you  dare  not  fire!" 

They  appeared  ready  to  rush  upon  the  leveled  bayonets. 
Captain  Preston  waved  his  sword  and  uttered  a  command 
which  could  not  be  distinctly  heard  amid  the  uproar  of  shouts 


I    \r!'\^  "  \ 


138  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

that  issued  from  a  hundred  throats.  But  his  soldiers  deemed 
that  he  had  spoken  the  fatal  mandate — "fire!"  The  flash  of 
their  muskets  lighted  up  the  streets,  and  the  report  rang 
loudly  between  the  edifices.  It  was  said,  too,  that  the  figure 
of  a  man,  with  a  cloth  hanging  down  over  his  face,  was  seen 
to  step  into  the  balcony  of  the  Custom  House  and  discharge 
a  musket  at  the  crowd. 

A  gush  of  smoke  had  overspread  the  scene.  It  rose  heavily, 
as  if  it  were  loath  to  reveal  the  dreadful  spectacle  beneath  it. 
Eleven  of  the  sons  of  New  England  lay  stretched  upon  the 
street.  Some,  sorely  wounded,  were  struggling  to  rise  again. 
Others  stirred  not  or  groaned;  for  they  were  past  all  pain. 
Blood  was  streaming  upon  the  snow;  and  that  purple  stain  in 
the  middle  of  King  Street,  though  it  melted  away  in  the  next 
day's  sun, was  never  forgotten  nor  forgiven  by  the  people. 


Grandfather  was  interrupted  by  the  violent  sobs  of  little 
Alice.  In  his  earnestness  he  had  neglected  to  soften  down 
the  narrative  so  that  it  might  not  terrify  the  heart  of  this 
unworldly  infant.  Since  Grandfather  began  the  history  of  our 
chair,  little  Alice  had  listened  to  many  tales  of  war.  But 
probably  the  idea  had  never  really  impressed  itself  upon  her 
mind  that  men  have  shed  the  blood  of  their  fellow-creatures. 
And  now  that  this  idea  was  forcibly  presented  to  her,  it 
affected  the  sweet  child  with  bewilderment  and  horror. 

"I  ought  to  have  remembered  our  dear  little  Alice,"  said 
Grandfather  reproachfully  to  himself.  "Oh,  what  a  pity! 
Her  heavenly  nature  has  now  received  its  first  impression  of 
earthly  sin  and  violence.  Well,  Clara,  take  her  to  bed  and 
comfort  her.  Heaven  grant  that  she  may  dream  away  the 
recollection  of  the  Boston  massacre!" 

"Grandfather,"  said  Charley,  when  Clara  and  little  Alice 
had  retired,  "did  not  the  people  rush  upon  the  soldiers  and 
take  revenge?" 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  139 

"The  town  drums  beat  to  arms,"  replied  Grandfather,  "the 
alarm-bells  rang,  and  an  immense  multitude  rushed  into  King 
Street.  Many  of  them  had  weapons  in  their  hands.  The 
British  prepared  to  defend  themselves.  A  whole  regiment 
was  drawn  up  in  the  street,  expecting  an  attack;  for  the  towns- 
men appeared  ready  to  throw  themselves  upon  the  bayonets.  " 

"And  how  did  it  end?"  asked  Charley. 

"Governor  Hutchinson  hurried  to  the  spot,"  said  Grand- 
father, "and  besought  the  people  to  have  patience,  promising 
that  strict  justice  should  be  done.  A  day  or  two  afterward 
the  British  troops  were  withdrawn  from  town  and  stationed  at 
Castle  William.  Captain  Preston  and  the  eight  soldiers  were 
tried  for  murder.  But  none  of  them  were  found  guilty.  The 
judges  told  the  jury  that  the  insults  and  violence  which  had 
been  offered  to  the  soldiers  justified  them  in  firing  at  the 
mob." 

"The  Revolution,"  observed  Laurence,  who  had  said  but 
little  during  the  evening,  "was  not  such  a  calm,  majestic 
movement  as  I  supposed.  I  do  not  love  to  hear  of  mobs  and 
broils  in  the  street.  These  things  were  unworthy  of  the  peo- 
ple when  they  had  such  a  great  object  to  accomplish." 

"Nevertheless,  the  world  has  seen  no  grander  movement 
than  that  of  our  Revolution  from  first  to  last,"  said  Grand- 
father. "The  people,  to  a  man,  were  full  of  a  great  and  noble 
sentiment.  True,  there  may  be  much  fault  to  find  with  their 
mode  of  expressing  this  sentiment;  but  they  knew  no  better — 
the  necessity  was  upon  them  to  act  out  their  feelings  in  the 
best  manner  they  could.  We  must  forgive  what  was  wrong 
in  their  actions,  and  look  into  their  hearts  and  minds  for  the 
honorable  motives  that  impelled  them." 

"And  I  suppose,"  said  Laurence,  "there  were  men  who 
knew  how  to  act  worthily  of  what  they  felt." 

"There  were  many  such,"  replied  Grandfather,  "and  we 
will  speak  of  some  of  them  hereafter." 

Grandfather  here  made  a  pause.     That  night,  Charley  had 


140  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

a  dream  about  the  Boston  massacre,  and  thougnt  that  he  him- 
self was  in  the  crowd  and  struck  down  Captain  Preston  with  a 
great  club.  Laurence  dreamed  that  he  was  sitting  in  our 
great  chair,  at  the  window  of  the  British  Coffee  House,  and 
beheld  the  whole  scene  which  Grandfather  had  described.  It 
seemed  to  him,  in  his  dream,  that,  if  the  townspeople  and  the 
soldiers  would  but  have  heard  him  speak  a  single  word,  all 
the  slaughter  might  have  been  averted.  But  there  was  such 
an  uproar  that  it  drowned  his  voice. 

The  next  morning  the  two  boys  went  together  to  State 
Street  and  stood  on  the  very  spot  where  the  first  blood  of  the 
Revolution  had  been  shed.  The  Old  State  House  was  still 
there,  presenting  almost  the  same  aspect  that  it  had  worn  on 
that  memorable  evening,  one  and  seventy  years  ago.  It  is 
the  sole  remaining  witness  of  the  Boston  massacre. 


CHAPTER   VI 

The  next  evening  the  astral  lamp  was  lighted  earlier  than 
usual,  because  Laurence  was  very  much  engaged  in  looking 
over  the  collection  of  portraits  which  had  been  his  New  Year's 
gift  from  Grandfather. 

Among  them  he  found  the  features  of  more  than  one  famous 
personage  who  had  been  connected  with  the  adventures  of 
our  old  chair.  Grandfather  bade  him  draw  the  table  nearer 
to  the  fireside;  and  they  looked  over  the  portraits  together, 
while  Clara  and  Charley  likewise  lent  their  attention.  As  for 
little  Alice,  she  sat  in  Grandfather's  lap,  and  seemed  to  see 
the  very  men  alive  whose  faces  were  there  represented. 

Turning  over  the  volume,  Laurence  came  to  the  portrait  of 
a  stern,  grim-looking  man,  in  plain  attire,  of  much  more  mod- 
ern fashion  than  that  of  the  old  Puritans.  But  the  face 
might  well  have  befitted  one  of  those  iron-hearted  men. 
Beneath  the  portrait  was  the  name  of  Samuel  Adams. 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


141 


"He  was  a  man  of  great  note  in  all  the  doings  that  brought 
about  the  Revolution,"    said   Grandfather.       "His  character 


SAMUEL   ADAMS 


was  such  that  it  seemed  as  if  one  of  the  ancient  Puritans  had 
been  sent  back  to  earth  to  animate  the  people's  hearts  with  the 


142  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

same  abhorrence  of  tyranny  that  had  distinguished  the  earli- 
est settlers.  He  was  as  religious  as  they,  as  stern  and  inflex- 
ible, and  as  deeply  imbued  with  democratic  principles.  He, 
better  than  any  one  else,  may  be  taken  as  a  representative  of 
the  people  of  New  England,  and  of  the  spirit  with  which  they 
engaged  in  the  Revolutionary  struggle.  He  was  a  poor  man, 
and  earned  his  bread  by  an  humble  occupation ;  but  with  his 
tongue  and  pen  he  made  the  King  of  England  tremble  on  his 
throne.  Remember  him,  my  children,  as  one  of  the  strong 
mien  of  our  country." 

"Here  is  one  whose  looks  show  a  very  different  character," 
observed  Laurence,  turning  to  the  portrait  of  John  Hancock. 
"I  should  think,  by  his  splendid  dress  and  courtly  aspect,  that 
he  was  one  of  the  king's  friends." 

"There  never  was  a  greater  contrast  than  between  Samuel 
Adams  and  John  Hancock,"  said  Grandfather.  "Yet  they 
were  of  the  same  side  in  politics,  and  had  an  equal  agency  in 
the  Revolution.  Hancock  was  born  to  the  inheritance  of  the 
largest  fortune  in  New  England.  His  tastes  and  habits  were 
aristocratic.  He  loved  gorgeous  attire,  a  splendid  mansion, 
magnificent  furniture,  stately  festivals,  and  all  that  was  glit- 
tering and  pompous  in  external  things.  His  manners  were  so 
polished  that  there  stood  not  a  nobleman  at  the  footstool  of 
King  George's  throne  who  was  a  more  skillful  courtier  than 
John  Hancock  might  have  been.  Nevertheless,  he  in  his 
embroidered  clothes,  and  Samuel  Adams  in  his  threadbare 
coat,  wrought  together  in  the  cause  of  liberty.  Adams  acted 
from  pure  and  rigid  principle.  Hancock,  though  he  loved  his 
country,  yet  thought  quite  as  much  of  his  own  popularity  as 
he  did  of  the  people's  rights.  It  is  remarkable  that  these  two 
men,  so  very  different  as  I  describe  them,  were  the  only  two 
exempted  from  pardon  by  the  king's  proclamation." 

On  the  next  leaf  of  the  book  was  the  portrait  of  General 
Joseph  Warren.  Charley  recognized  the  name,  and  said  that 
here  was  a  greater  man  than  either  Hancock  or  Adams. 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


143 


"Warren  was  an  eloquent  and  able  patriot,"  replied  Grand- 
father. "He  deserves  a  lasting  memory  for  his  zealous  efforts 
in  behalf  of  liberty.       No  man's  voice  was  more  powerful  in 


JOHN   ADAMS 

( The  Second  President  of  the  United  States) 

Faneuil  Hall  than  Joseph  Warren's.  If  his  death  had  not 
happened  so  early  in  the  contest,  he  would  probably  have 
gained  a  high  name  as  a  soldier. " 


144 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


The  next  portrait  was  a  venerable  man,  who  held  his  thumb 
under  his  chin,  and,  through  his  spectacles,  appeared  to  be 
attentively  reading  a  manuscript. 


Q/cjLn^y-esr 


gggggfeg: 


(Pa^O 


% 


?S5Sfea^2^SKS«4' 


^^^X^*^  luMk^A^^^^njA^ 


FACSIMILE   OF  THE   SIGNATURES   TO    THE    DECLARATION 
OF    INDEPENDENCE 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


145 


"Here  we  see  the  most  illustrious  Boston   boy  that  ever 
lived, "  said  Grandfather.     "This  is  Benjamin  Franklin!     But 


HOUSE  IN  PHILADELPHIA   IN  WHICH   THE   FIRST   CONGRESS  WAS   HELD 

I  will  not  try  to  compress  into  a  few  sentences  the  character 
of  the  sage,  who,  as  a  Frenchman  expressed  it,  snatched  the 

10  Chair 


146  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

lightning  from  the  sky,  and  the  scepter  from  a  tyrant.  The 
book  likewise  contained  portraits  of  James  Otis  and  Josiah 
Quincy.  Both  of  them,  Grandfather  observed,  were  men  of 
wonderful  talents  and  true  patriotism. 

"Here  was  another  great  man,"  remarked  Laurence,  point- 
ing to  the  portrait  of  John  Adams. 

"Yes;  an  earnest,  warm-tempered,  honest,  and  most  able 
man,"  said  Grandfather.  "At  the  period  of  which  we  are  now 
speaking  he  was  a  lawyer  in  Boston.  He  was  destined  in 
after  years  to  be  ruler  over  the  whole  American  people,  whom 
he  contributed  so  much  to  form  into  a  nation." 

Grandfather  here  remarked  that  many  a  New  Englander, 
who  had  passed  his  boyhood  and  youth  in  obscurity,  afterward 
attained  to  a  fortune  which  he  never  could  have  foreseen  even 
in  his  most  ambitious  dreams.  John  Adams,  the  second 
President  of  the  United  States  and  the  equal  of  crowned  kings, 
was  once  a  schoolmaster  and  country  lawyer.  Hancock,  the 
first  signer  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  served  his 
apprenticeship  with  a  merchant.  Samuel  Adams,  afterward 
governor  of  Massachusetts,  was  a  small  tradesman  and  a  tax- 
gatherer.  General  Warren  was  a  physician,  General  Lincoln 
a  farmer,  and  General  Knox  a  bookbinder.  General  Nathan- 
iel Greene,  the  best  soldier,  except  Washington,  in  the  Rev- 
olutionary army,  was  a  Quaker  and  a  blacksmith.  All  these 
became  illustrious  men,  and  can  never  be  forgotten  in  Amer- 
ican history. 

"And  any  boy  who  is  born  in  America  may  look  forward  to 
the  same  things,"  said  our  ambitious  friend  Charley. 

After  these  observations,  Grandfather  drew  the  book  of 
portraits  toward  him  and  showed  the  children  several  British 
peers  and  members  of  Parliament  who  had  exerted  them- 
selves either  for  or  against  the  rights  of  America.  There 
were  the  Earl  of  Bute,  Mr.  Grenville,  and  Lord  North.  These 
were  looked  upon  as  deadly  enemies  to  our  country. 

Among   the    friends  of  America  was  Mr.   Pitt,    afterward 


THE  DECLARATION  OF  INDEPENDENCE  READ  TO  THE  ARMY 


148  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

Earl  of  Chatham,  who  spent  so  much  of  his  wondrous  elo- 
quence in  endeavoring  to  warn  England  of  the  consequences 
of  her  injustice.  He  fell  down  on  the  floor  of  the  House  of 
Lords  after  uttering  almost  his  dying  words  in  defense  of  our 
privileges  as  freemen.  There  was  Edmund  Burke,  one  of  the 
wisest  men  and  greatest  orators  that  ever  the  world  produced. 
There  was  Colonel  Barre,  who  had  been  among  our  fathers, 
and  knew  that  they  had  courage  enough  to  die  for  their  rights. 
There  was  Charles  James  Fox,  who  never  rested  until  he  had 
silenced  our  enemies  in  the  House  of  Commons. 

"It  is  very  remarkable  to  observe  how  many  of  the  ablest 
orators  in  the  British  Parliament  were  favorable  to  America," 
said  Grandfather.  "We  ought  to  remember  these  great  Eng- 
lishmen with  gratitude;  for  their  speeches  encouraged  our 
fathers  almost  as  much  as  those  of  our  own  orators  in  Faneuil 
Hall  and  under  Liberty  Tree.  Opinions  which  might  have 
been  received  with  doubt,  if  expressed  only  by  a  native 
American,  were  set  down  as  true,  beyond  dispute,  when  they 
came  from  the  lips  of  Chatham,  Burke,  Barre,  or  Fox." 

"But,  Grandfather,"  asked  Laurence,  "were  there  no  able 
and  eloquent  men  in  this  country  who  took  the  part  of  King 
George?" 

"There  were  many  men  of  talent  who  said  what  they  could 
in  defense  of  the  king's  tyrannical  proceedings,"  replied 
Grandfather.  "But  they  had  the  worst  side  of  the  argument, 
and  therefore  seldom  said  anything  worth  remembering. 
Moreover,  their  hearts  were  faint  and  feeble;  for  they  felt  that 
the  people  scorned  and  detested  them.  They  had  no  friends, 
no  defense,  except  in  the  bayonets  of  the  British  troops.  A 
blight  fell  upon  all  their  faculties,  because  they  were  contend- 
ing against  the  rights  of  their  own  native  land." 

"1  wish  the  people  had  tarred  and  feathered  every  man  of 
them!"  cried  Charley. 

"That  wish  is  very  wrong,  Charley,"  said  Grandfather. 
"You  must  not  think  that  there  were  no  integrity  and  honor 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  149 

except  among  those  who  stood  up  for  the  freedom  of  America. 
Do  you  see  nothing  admirable  in  a  faithful  adherence  to  an 
unpopular  cause?  Can  you  not  respect  that  principle  of 
loyalty  which  made  the  royalists  give  up  country,  friends, 
fortune,  everything,  rather  than  be  false  to  their  king?  It 
was  a  mistaken  principle;  but  many  of  them  cherished  it  hon- 
orably, and  were  martyrs  to  it." 

Among  the  portraits  was  one  of  King  George  the  Third. 
Little  Alice  clapped  her  hands,  and  seemed  pleased  with  the 
bluff  good  nature  of  his  physiognomy.  But  Laurence  thought  it 
strange  that  a  man  with  such  a  face,  indicating  hardly  a  com- 
mon share  of  intellect,  should  have  had  influence  enough  on 
human  affairs  to  convulse  the  world  with  war.  Grandfather 
observed  that  this  poor  king  had  always  appeared  to  him  one 
of  the  most  unfortunate  persons  that  ever  lived.  "His  life," 
said  Grandfather,  "while  he  retained  what  intellect  heaven 
had  gifted  him  with,  was  one  long  mortification.  At  last  he 
grew  crazed  with  care  and  trouble.  For  nearly  twenty  years, 
the  monarch  of  England  was  confined  as  a  madman.  In  his 
old  age,  too,  God  took  away  his  eyesight;  so  that  his  royal 
palace  was  nothing  to  him  but  a  dark,  lonesome  prison-house.  " 


CHAPTER   VII 

"Our  old  chair,"  resumed  Grandfather,  "did  not  now  stand 
in  the  middle  of  a  gay  circle  of  British  officers.  The  troops, 
as  1  told  you,  had  been  removed  to  Castle  William  immedi- 
ately after  the  Boston  massacre.  Still,  however,  there  were 
many  tories,  custom-house  officers,  and  Englishmen  who  used 
to  assemble  in  the  British  Coffee  House  and  talk  over  the 
affairs  of  the  period.  Matters  grew  worse  and  worse ;  and  in 
1773  the  people  did  a  deed  which  incensed  the  king  and  min- 
istry more  than  any  of  their  former  doings." 

Grandfather  here  described  the  affair,  which  is  known  by 


150  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

the  name  of  the  Boston  Tea  Party.  The  Americans,  for  some 
time  past,  had  left  off  importing  tea,  on  account  of  the 
oppressive  tax.  The  East  India  Company,  in  London,  had  a 
large  stock  of  tea  on  hand  which  they  had  expected  to  sell  to 
the  Americans,  but  could  find  no  market  for  it.  But,  after  a 
while,  the  government  persuaded  this  company  of  merchants 
to  send  the  tea  to  America. 

"How  odd  it  is,"  observed  Clara,  "that  the  liberties  of 
America   should  have  had  anything  to  do  with  a  cup  of  tea;" 

Grandfather  smiled,  and  proceeded  with  his  narrative. 
When  the  people  of  Boston  heard  that  several  cargoes  of  tea 
were  coming  across  the  Atlantic,  they  held  a  great  many 
meetings  at  Faneuil  Hall,  in  the  Old  South  Church,  and 
under  Liberty  Tree.  In  the  middle  of  their  debates,  three 
ships  arrived  in  the  harbor  with  the  tea  on  board.  The  people 
spent  a  fortnight  in  consulting  what  should  be  done.  At  last, 
on  Dec.  16,  1773,  they  demanded  that  Hutchinson  should  send 
the  ships  back  to  England. 

The  governor  replied  that  the  ships  must  not  leave  the  har- 
bor until  the  Custom  House  duties  upon  the  tea  should  be 
paid.  Now,  the  payment  of  these  duties  was  the  very  thing 
against  which  the  people  had  set  their  faces;  because  it  was  a 
tax  unjustly  imposed  upon  America  by  the  English  govern- 
ment. Therefore,  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening,  as  soon  as 
Hutchinson's  reply  was  received,  an  immense  crowd  hastened 
to  Griffin's  Wharf,  where  the  tea  ships  lay.  The  place  is  now 
called  Liverpool  Wharf. 

"When  the  crowd  reached  the  wharf,"  said  Grandfather, 
"they  saw  that  a  set  of  wild-looking  figures  were  already  on 
board  of  the  ships.  You  would  have  imagined  that  the  Indian 
warriors  of  old  times  had  come  back  again ;  for  they  wore  the 
Indian  dress,  and  had  their  faces  covered  with  red  and  black 
paint,  like  the  Indians  when  they  go  to  war.  These  grim 
figures  hoisted  the  tea  chests  on  the  decks  of  the  vessels,  broke 
them  open,  and  threw  all  the  contents  into  the  harbor." 


THE   MIDNIGHT   RIDE  OF  PAUL  REVERE 


152  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

"Grandfather,"  said  little  Alice,  "I  suppose  Indians  don't 
love  tea;  else  they  would  never  waste  it  so." 

"They  were  not  real  Indians,  my  child,"  answered  Grand- 
father. "They  were  white  men  in  disguise;  because  a  heavy 
punishment  would  have  been  inflicted  on  them  if  the  king's 
officers  had  found  who  they  were.  But  it  was  never  known. 
From  that  day  to  this,  though  the  matter  has  been  talked  of 
by  all  the  world,  nobody  can  tell  the  names  of  those  Indian 
figures.  Some  people  say  that  there  were  very  famous  men 
among  them,  who  afterward  became  governors  and  generals. 
Whether  this  be  true  I  cannot  tell." 

When  tidings  of  this  bold  deed  were  carried  to  England, 
King  George  was  greatly  enraged.  Parliament  immediately 
passed  an  act  by  which  all  vessels  were  forbidden  to  take  in  or 
discharge  their  cargoes  at  the  port  of  Boston.  In  this  way 
they  expected  to  ruin  all  the  merchants,  and  starve  the  poor 
people  by  depriving  them  of  employment.  At  the  same  time 
another  act  was  passed,  taking  away  many  rights  and  priv- 
ileges which  had  been  granted  in  the  charter  of  Massachusetts. 

Hutchinson,  soon  afterward,  was  summoned  to  England,  in 
order  that  he  might  give  his  advice  about  the  management  of 
American  affairs.  Gage,  an  officer  of  the  Old  French  War, 
and  since  commander-in-chief  of  the  British  forces  in  America, 
was  appointed  governor  in  his  stead.  One  of  his  first  acts  was 
to  make  Salem,  instead  of  Boston,  the  metropolis  of  Massa- 
chusetts, by  summoning  the  General  Court  to  meet  there. 

According  to  Grandfather's  description,  this  was  the  most 
gloomy  time  that  Massachusetts  had  ever  seen.  The  people 
groaned  under  as  heavy  a  tyranny  as  in  the  days  of  Edmund 
Andros.  Boston  looked  as  if  it  were  afflicted  with  some  dread- 
ful pestilence, — so  sad  were  the  inhabitants,  and  so  desolate 
the  streets.  There  was  no  cheerful  hum  of  business.  The 
merchants  shut  up  their  warehouses,  and  the  laboring  men 
stood  idle  about  the  wharves.     But  all  America  felt  interested 


154  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

in  the  good  town  of  Boston ;  and  contributions  were  raised,  in 
many  places,  for  the  relief  of  the  poor  inhabitants. 

"A  continental  Congress  assembled  at  Philadelphia, "  said 
Grandfather,  "and  proposed  such  measures  as  they  thought 
most  conducive  to  the  public  good.  A  provincial  Congress 
was  likewise  chosen  in  Massachusetts.  They  exhorted  the 
people  to  arm  and  discipline  themselves.  A  great  number  of 
minute  men  were  enrolled.  The  Americans  called  them 
minute  men  because  they  engaged  to  be  ready  to  fight  at  a 
minute's  warning.  The  English  officers  laughed,  and  said 
that  the  name  was  a  very  proper  one,  because  the  minute  men 
would  run  away  the  minute  they  saw  the  enemy.  Whether 
they  would  fight  or  run  was  soon  to  be  proved." 

Grandfather  told  the  children  that  the  first  open  resistance 
offered  to  the  British  troops,  in  the  province  of  Massachusetts, 
was  at  Salem.  Pickering,  with  thirty  or  forty  minute  men, 
prevented  the  English  colonel,  Leslie,  with  four  times  as 
many  regular  soldiers,  from  taking  possession  of  some  military 
stores.  No  blood  was  shed  on  this  occasion;  but  soon  after- 
ward it  began  to  flow. 

General  Gage  sent  eight  hundred  soldiers  to  Concord,  about 
eighteen  miles  from  Boston,  to  destroy  some  ammunition  and 
provisions  which  the  colonists  had  collected  there.  They  set 
out  on  their  march  on  the  evening  of  April  18,  1775.  The 
next  morning,  the  general  sent  Lord  Percy  with  nine  hundred 
men  to  strengthen  the  troops  that  had  gone  before.  All  that 
day  the  inhabitants  of  Boston  heard  various  rumors.  Some 
said  that  the  British  were  making  a  great  slaughter  among  our 
countrymen.  Others  affirmed  that  every  man  had  turned  out 
with  his  musket,  and  not  a  single  British  soldier  would  ever 
get  back  to  Boston. 

"It  was  after  sunset,"  continued  Grandfather,  "when  the 
troops,  who  had  marched  forth  so  proudly,  were  seen  entering 
Charlestown.  They  were  covered  with  dust,  and  so  hot  and 
weary  that  their  tongues  hung  out  of  their  mouths.     Many 


DEATH    OF    MAJOR  PITCAIRfl 


156  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

of  them  were  faint  with  wounds.  The}'  had  not  all  returned. 
Nearly  three  hundred  were  strewn,  dead  or  dying,  along  the 
road  from  Concord.  The  yeomanry  had  risen  upon  the 
invaders  and  driven  them  back." 

"Was  this  the  battle  of  Lexington?"  asked  Charley.  "Yes," 
replied  Grandfather;  "it  was  so  called,  because  the  British, 
without  provocation,  had  fired  upon  a  party  of  minute  men, 
near  Lexington  meeting-house,  and  killed  eight  of  them. 
That  fatal  volley,  which  was  fired  by  order  of  Major  Pitcairn, 
began  the  war  of  the  Revolution. 

"Meanwhile,  an  army  of  twenty  thousand  men  came  to  the 
siege  of  Boston.  Gage  and  his  troops  were  cooped  up  within 
the  narrow  precincts  of  the  peninsula.  On  June  17,  1775,  the 
famous  battle  of  Bunker  Hill  was  fought.  Here  Warren  fell. 
The  British  got  the  victory,  indeed,  but  with  the  loss  of  more 
than  a  thousand  officers  and  men." 

"Oh,  Grandfather,"  cried  Charley,  "you  must  tell  us  about 
that  famous  battle." 

"No,  Charley,"  said  Grandfather,  "I  am  not  like  other  his- 
torians. Battles  shall  not  hold  a  prominent  place  in  the  his- 
tory of  our  quiet  and  comfortable  old  chair.  But  to-morrow 
evening,  Laurence,  Clara,  and  yourself,  dear  little  Alice,  too, 
shall  visit  the  diorama  of  Bunker  Hill.  There  you  shall  see 
the  whole  business,  the  burning  of  Charlestown  and  all,  with 
your  own  eyes,  and  hear  the  cannon  and  musketry  with 
your  own  ears. " 

CHAPTER   VIII 

The  next  evening  but  one,  when  the  children  had  given 
Grandfather  a  full  account  of  the  diorama  of  Bunker  Hill, 
they  entreated  him  not  to  keep  them  any  longer  in  suspense 
about  the  fate  of  his  chair.  The  reader  will  recollect  that,  at 
the  last  accounts,  it  had  trotted  away  upon  its  poor  old  legs 
nobody  knew  whither.     But,  before  gratifying  their  curiosity, 


DEFENSE   OF   BREED'S   HILL — PRESCOTT  IN  THE   REDOUBT 


158  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

Grandfather  found  it  necessary  to  say  something  about  public 
events. 

The  Continental  Congress,  which  was  assembled  at  Phila- 
delphia, was  composed  of  delegates  from  all  the  colonies. 
They  had  now  appointed  George  Washington,  of  Virginia,  to 
be  commander-in-chief  of  all  the  American  armies.  He  was 
at  that  time  a  member  of  Congress;  but  immediately  left 
Philadelphia,  and  began  his  journey  to  Massachusetts.  On 
July  3,  1775,  he  arrived  at  Cambridge,  and  took  command  of 
the  troops  which  were  besieging  Gage. 

"Oh!  Grandfather,"  exclaimed  Laurence,  "it  makes  my 
heart  throb  to  think  what  is  coming  now.  We  are  to  see  Gen- 
eral Washington  himself." 

The  children  crowded  around  Grandfather  and  looked  ear- 
nestly into  his  face.  Even  little  Alice  opened  her  sweet  blue 
eyes,  with  her  lips  apart,  and  almost  held  her  breath  to  listen; 
so  instinctive  is  the  reverence  of  childhood  for  the  father  of 
his  country.  Grandfather  paused  a  moment;  for  he  felt  as  if 
it  might  be  irreverent  to  introduce  the  hallowed  shade  of 
Washington  into  a  history  where  an  ancient  elbow  chair  occu- 
pied the  most  prominent  place.  However,  he  determined  to 
proceed  with  his  narrative,  and  speak  of  the  hero  when  it  was 
needful,  but  with  an  unambitious  simplicity. 

So  Grandfather  told  his  auditors  that,  on  Washington's 
arrival  at  Cambridge,  his  first  care  was  to  reconnoiter  the 
British  troops  with  his  spy-glass,  and  to  examine  the  condi- 
tion of  his  own  army.  He  found  that  the  American  troops 
amounted  to  about  fourteen  thousand  men.  They  were 
extended  all  round  the  peninsula  of  Boston,  a  space  of  twelve 
miles,  from  the  high  grounds  of  Roxbury  on  the  right  to 
Mystic  River  on  the  left.  Some  were  living  in  tents  of  sail- 
cloth, some  in  shanties  rudely  constructed  of  boards,  some  in 
huts  of  stone  or  turf  with  curious  windows  and  doors  of  bas- 
ket-work. 

In  order  to  be  near  the  center  and  oversee  the  whole  of  this 


GEN.   GEORGE   WASHINGTON 

{The  First  President  of  the  United  States) 


160  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

wide-stretched  army,  the  commander-in-chief  made  his  head- 
quarters at  Cambridge,  about  half  a  mile  from  the  colleges. 
A  mansion-house,  which  perhaps  had  been  the  country-seat 
of  some  tory  gentleman,  was  provided  for  his  residence. 

"When  Washington  first  entered  this  mansion,"  said  Grand- 
father, "he  was  ushered  up  the  staircase  and  shown  into  a 
handsome  apartment.  He  sat  down  in  a  large  chair,  which 
was  the  most  conspicuous  object  in  the  room.  The  noble 
figure  of  Washington  would  have  done  honor  to  a  throne.  As 
he  sat  there,  with  his  hand  resting  on  the  hilt  of  his  sheathed 
sword,  which  was  placed  between  his  knees,  his  whole  aspect 
well  befitted  the  chosen  man  on  whom  his  country  leaned  for 
the  defense  of  her  dearest  rights.  America  seemed  safe 
under  his  protection.  His  face  was  grander  than  any  sculptor 
had  ever  wrought  in  marble;  none  could  behold  him  without 
awe  and  reverence.  Never  before  had  the  lion's  head  at  the 
summit  of  the  chair  looked  down  upon  such  a  face  and  form 
as  Washington's." 

"Why!  Grandfather!"  cried  Clara,  clasping  her  hands  in 
amazement,  "was  it  really  so!  Did  General  Washington  sit 
in  our  great  chair?" 

"I  knew  how  it  would  be,"  said  Laurence;  "I  foresaw  it  the 
moment  Grandfather  began  to  speak."  Grandfather  smiled. 
But,  turning  from  the  personal  and  domestic  life  of  the  illus- 
trious leader,  he  spoke  of  the  methods  which  Washington 
adopted  to  win  back  the  metropolis  of  New  England  from  the 
British. 

The  army,  when  he  took  command  of  it,  was  without  any 
discipline  or  order.  The  privates  considered  themselves  as 
good  as  their  officers,  and  seldom  thought  it  necessary  to  obey 
their  commands,  unless  they  understood  the  why  and  where- 
fore. Moreover,  they  were  enlisted  for  so  short  a  period  that, 
as  soon  as  they  began  to  be  respectable  soldiers,  it  was  time 
to  discharge  them.  Then  came  new  recruits,  who  had  to  be 
taught  their  duty  before  they  could  be  of  any  service.      Such 


v 


AT   CLOSE    QUARTERS 


11  Chair 


162  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

was  the  army  with  which  Washington  had  to  contend  against 
more  than  twenty  veteran  British  regiments. 

Some  of  the  men  had  no  muskets  and  almost  all  were  with- 
out bayonets.  Heavy  cannon,  for  battering  the  British  forti- 
fications, were  much  wanted.  There  was  but  a  small  quantity 
of  powder  and  ball,  few  tools  to  build  intrenchments  with, 
and  a  great  deficiency  of  provisions  and  clothes  for  the  sol- 
diers. Yet,  in  spite  of  these  perplexing  difficulties,  the  eyes 
of  the  whole  people  were  fixed  on  Washington,  expecting  him 
to  undertake  some  great  enterprise  against  the  hostile  army. 

The  first  thing  that  he  found  necessary  was  to  bring  his 
own  men  into  better  order  and  discipline.  It  is  wonderful 
how  soon  he  transformed  this  rough  mob  of  country  people 
into  the  semblance  of  a  regular  army.  One  of  Washington's 
most  invaluable  characteristics  was  the  faculty  of  bringing 
order  out  of  confusion. 

"Washington  had  not  been  long  at  the  head  of  the  army," 
proceeded  Grandfather,  "before  his  soldiers  thought  as  highly 
of  him  as  if  he  had  led  them  to  a  hundred  victories.  They 
knew  that  he  was  the  very  man  whom  the  country  needed, 
and  the  one  who  could  bring  them  safely  through  the  great 
contest  against  the  might  of  England.  They  put  entire  con- 
fidence in  his  courage,  wisdom,  and  integrity." 

"And  were  they  not  eager  to  follow  him  against  the  Brit- 
ish?" asked  Charley. 

"Doubtless  they  would  have  gone  whithersoever  his  sword 
pointed  the  way,"  answered  Grandfather;  "and  Washington 
was  anxious  to  make  a  decisive  assault  upon  the  enemy.  But 
as  the  enterprise  was  very  hazardous,  he  called  a  council  of 
all  the  generals  in  the  army.  Accordingly,  they  came  from 
their  different  posts,  and  were  ushered  into  the  reception- 
room.  The  commander-in-chief  arose  from  our  great  chair 
to  greet  them. 

"What  were  their  names?"  asked  Charley. 

"There  was  General  Artemus  Ward,"  replied  Grandfather, 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


163 


"a  lawyer  by  profession.       He  had   commanded   the   troops 
before  Washington's  arrival.       Another  was  General  Charles 


GEN.    HORATIO   GATES 

Lee,  who  had  been  a  colonel  in  the  English  army,  and  was 
thought  to  possess  vast  military  science.       He  came   to   the 


164  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

council,  followed  by  two  or  three  dogs  which  were  always  at 
his  heels.  There  was  General  Putnam  too,  who  was  known 
all  over  New  England  by  the  name  of  Old  Put." 

"Was  it  he  who  killed  the  wolf?"  inquired  Charley.  "The 
same,"  said  Grandfather;  "and  he  had  done  good  service  in 
the  Old  French  War.  His  occupation  was  that  of  a  farmer; 
but  he  left  his  plow  in  the  furrow  at  the  news  of  Lexington 
battle.  Then  there  was  General  Gates,  who  afterwards  gained 
great  renown  at  Saratoga,  and  lost  it  again  at  Camden.  Gen- 
eral Greene,  of  Rhode  Island,  was  likewise  at  the  council. 
Washington  soon  discovered  him  to  be  one  of  the  best  officers 
in  the  army. " 

When  the  generals  were  all  assembled,  Washington  con- 
sulted them  about  a  plan  for  storming  the  English  batteries. 
But  it  was  their  unanimous  opinion  that  so  perilous  an  enter- 
prise ought  not  to  be  attempted.  The  army,  therefore,  con- 
tinued to  besiege  Boston,  preventing  the  enemy  from  obtain- 
ing supplies  of  provisions,  but  without  taking  immediate 
measures  to  get  possession  of  the  town.  In  this  manner  the 
summer,  autumn,  and  winter  passed. 

"Many  a  night,  doubtless,"  said  Grandfather,  "after  Wash- 
ington had  been  all  day  on  horseback,  galloping  from  one  post 
of  the  army  to  another,  he  used  to  sit  in  our  great  chair, 
wrapped  in  earnest  thought.  Had  you  seen  him,  you  might 
have  supposed  that  his  whole  mind  was  fixed  on  the  blue  china 
tiles  which  adorned  the  old-fashioned  fireplace.  But,  in  real- 
ity, he  was  meditating  how  to  capture  the  British  army,  or 
drive  it  out  of  Boston.  Once,  when  there  was  a  hard  frost,  he 
formed  a  scheme  to  cross  the  Charles  River  on  the  ice.  But 
the  other  generals  could  not  be  persuaded  that  there  was  any 
prospect  of  success." 

"What  were  the  British  doing  all  this  time?"  inquired 
Charley.  "They  lay  idle  in  the  town,"  replied  Grandfather. 
"Gage  had  been  recalled  to  England,  and  was  succeeded  by 
Sir  William  Howe.     The  British  army  and  the  inhabitants  of 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  165 

Boston  were  now  in  great  distress.  Being  shut  up  in  the 
town  so  long,  they  had  consumed  almost  all  their  provisions 
and  burned  up  all  their  fuel.  The  soldiers  tore  down  the  Old 
North  Church,  and  used  its  rotten  boards  and  timbers  for  fire- 
wood. To  heighten  their  distress,  the  small-pox  broke  out. 
They  probably  lost  far  more  men  by  cold,  hunger,  and  sick- 
ness than  had  been  slain  at  Lexington  and  Bunker  Hill." 

"What  a  dismal  time  for  the  poor  women  and  children!" 
exclaimed  Clara. 

"At  length,"  continued  Grandfather,  "in  March,  1776, 
Washington,  who  had  now  a  good  supply  of  powder,  began  a 
terrible  cannonade  and  bombardment  from  Dorchester 
heights.  One  of  the  cannon-balls  which  he  fired  into  the 
town  struck  the  tower  of  the  Brattle  Street  Church,  where  it 
may  still  be  seen.  Howe  made  preparations  to  cross  over  in 
boats  and  drive  the  Americans  from  their  batteries,  but  was 
prevented  by  a  violent  gale  and  storm.  Washington  next 
erected  a  battery  on  Nook's  Hill,  so  near  the  enemy  that  it 
was  impossible  for  them  to  remain  in  Boston  any  longer." 

"Hurrah!  Hurrah!"  cried  Charley,  clapping  his  hands 
triumphantly.  "I  wish  I  had  been  there  to  see  how  sheepish 
the  Englishmen  looked." 

And  as  Grandfather  thought  that  Boston  had  never  wit- 
nessed a  more  interesting  period  than  this,  when  the  royal 
power  was  in  its  death  agony,  he  determined  to  take  a  peep 
into  the  town  and  imagine  the  feelings  of  those  who  were 
quitting  it  forever. 

CHAPTER  IX 

"Alas!  for  the  poor  Tories!"  said  Grandfather. 

"Until  the  very  last  morning  after  Washington's  troops  had 
shown  themselves  on  Nook's  hill,  these  unfortunate  persons 
could  not  believe  that  the  audacious  rebels,  as  they  called  the 
Americans,   would  ever  prevail  against  King  George's  army. 


166  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

But  when  they  saw  the  British  soldiers  preparing  to  embark 
on  board  of  the  ships  of  war,  then  they  knew  that  they  had 
lost  their  country.  Could  the  patriots  have  known  how  bitter 
were  their  regrets,  they  would  have  forgiven  them  all  their 
evil  deeds,  and  sent  a  blessing  after  them  as  they  sailed 
away  from  their  native  shore." 

In  order  to  make  the  children  sensible  of  the  pitiable  condi- 
tion of  these  men,  Grandfather  singled  out  Peter  Oliver,  chief 
justice  of  Massachusetts  under  the  crown,  and  imagined  him 
walking  through  the  streets  of  Boston  on  the  morning  before 
he  left  it  forever. 

This  effort  of  Grandfather's  fancy  may  be  called 

the  Tory's  farewell 

Old  Chief  Justice  Oliver  threw  on  his  red  cloak,  and  placed 
his  three-cornered  hat  on  the  top  of  his  white  wig.  In  this 
garb  he  intended  to  go  forth  and  take  a  parting  look  at  objects 
that  had  been  familiar  to  him  from  his  youth.  Accordingly, 
he  began  his  walk  in  the  north  part  of  the  town,  and  soon 
came  to  Faneuil  Hall.  This  edifice,  the  cradle  of  liberty,  had 
been  used  by  the  British  officers  as  a  playhouse. 

"Would  that  I  could  see  its  walls  crumble  to  dust!"  thought 
the  chief  justice;  and,  in  the  bitterness  of  his  heart,  he  shook 
his  fist  at  the  famous  hall.  "There  began  the  mischief  which 
now  threatens  to  rend  asunder  the  British  empire!  The  sedi- 
tious harangues  of  demagogues  in  Faneuil  Hall  have  made 
rebels  of  a  loyal  people  and  deprived  me  of  my  country." 

He  then  passed  through  a  narrow  avenue  and  found  himself 
in  King  Street,  almost  on  the  very  spot  which,  six  years 
before,  had  been  reddened  by  the  blood  of  the  Boston  mas- 
sacre. The  chief  justice  stepped  cautiously  and  shuddered, 
as  if  he  were  afraid  that,  even  now,  the  gore  of  his  slaughtered 
countrymen  might  stain  his  feet. 

Before  him   rose  the  Town   House,    on  the   front  of  which 


HENRY    CLINTON,  COMMANDER   OF   THE    BRITISH   FORCES 


168  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

were  still  displayed  the  royal  arms.  Within  that  edifice  he 
had  dispensed  justice  to  the  people  in  the  days  when  his  name 
was  never  mentioned  without  honor.  There,  too,  was  the  bal- 
cony whence  the  trumpet  had  been  sounded  and  the  proclama- 
tion read  to  an  assembled  multitude,  whenever  a  new  king  of 
England  ascended  the  throne. 

"I  remember — I  remember,"  said  Chief  Justice  Oliver  to 
himself,  "when  his  present  most  sacred  majesty  was  pro- 
claimed. Then  how  the  people  shouted!  Each  man  would 
have  poured  out  his  lifeblood  to  keep  a  hair  of  King  George's 
head  from  harm.  But  now  there  is  scarcely  a  tongue  in  all 
New  England  that  does  not  imprecate  curses  on  his  name.  It 
is  ruin  and  disgrace  to  love  him.  Can  it  be  possible  that  a 
few  fleeting  years  have  wrought  such  a  change?" 

It  did  not  occur  to  the  chief  justice  that  nothing  but  the 
most  grievous  tyranny  could  so  soon  have  changed  the  people's 
hearts.  Hurrying  from  the  spot,  he  entered  Cornhill,  as  the 
lower  part  of  Washington  Street  was  then  called.  Opposite 
to  the  Town  House  was  the  waste  foundation  of  the  Old 
North  Church.  The  sacrilegious  hands  of  the  British  soldiers 
had  torn  it  down,  and  kindled  their  barrack  fires  with  the 
fragments. 

Farther  on  he  passed  beneath  the  tower  of  the  Old  South. 
The  threshold  of  this  sacred  edifice  was  worn  by  the  iron 
tramp  of  horses'  feet;  for  the  interior  had  been  used  as  a  rid- 
ing-school and  rendezvous  for  a  regiment  of  dragoons.  As 
the  chief  justice  lingered  an  instant  at  the  door,  a  trumpet 
sounded  within,  and  the  regiment  came  clattering  forth  and 
galloped  down  the  street.  They  were  proceeding  to  the  place 
of  embarkation. 

"Let  them  go!"  thought  the  chief  justice,  with  somewhat 
of  an  old  Puritan  feeling  in  his  breast.  "No  good  can  come 
of  men  who  desecrate  the  house  of  God." 

He  went  on  a  few  steps  farther,  and  paused  before  the  Prov- 
ince House.      No  range  of  brick  stores  had  then  sprung  up  to 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  169 

hide  the  mansion  of  the  royal  governors  from  public  view.  It 
had  a  spacious  courtyard,  bordered  with  trees,  and  inclosed 
with  a  wrought-iron  fence.  On  the  cupola  that  surmounted 
the  edifice  was  the  gilded  figure  on  an  Indian  chief,  ready  to 
let  fly  an  arrow  from  his  bow.  Over  the  wide  front  door  was 
a  balcony,  in  which  the  chief  justice  had  often  stood  when  the 
governor  and  high  officers  of  the  province  showed  themselves 
to  the  people. 

While  Chief  Justice  Oliver  gazed  sadly  at  the  Province 
House,  before  which  a  sentinel  was  pacing,  the  double  leaves 
of  the  door  were  thrown  open,  and  Sir  William  Howe  made 
his  appearance.  Behind  him  came  a  throng  of  officers,  whose 
steel  scabbards  clattered  against  the  stones  as  they  hastened 
down  the  courtyard.  Sir  William  Howe  was  a  dark-complex- 
ioned man,  stern  and  haughty  in  his  deportment.  He  stepped 
as  proudly,  in  the  hour  of  defeat,  as  if  he  were  going  to  receive 
the  submission  of  the  rebel  general. 

The  chief  justice  bowed  and  accosted  him. 

"This  is  a  grievous  hour  for  both  of  us,  Sir  William,"  said 
he. 

"Forward!  gentlemen,"  said  Sir  William  Howe  to  the 
officers  who  attended  him;  "we  have  no  time  to  hear  lamenta- 
tions now!" 

And,  coldly  bowing,  he  departed.  Thus  the  chief  justice 
had  a  foretaste  of  the  mortifications  which  the  exiled  New  Eng- 
enders afterwards  suffered  from  the  haughty  Britons.  They 
were  despised  even  by  that  country,  which  they  had  served 
more  faithfully  than  their  own. 

A  still  heavier  trial  awaited  Chief  Justice  Oliver,  as  he 
passed  onward  from  the  Province  House.  He  was  recognized 
by  the  people  in  the  street.  They  had  long  known  him  as  the 
descendant  of  an  ancient  and  honorable  family.  They  had 
seen  him  sitting  in  his  scarlet  robes  upon  the  judgment  seat. 
All  his  life  long,  either  for  the  sake  of  his  ancestors  or  on 
account  of  his  own  dignified  station  and  unspotted  character, 


170  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

he  had  been  held  in  high  respect.  The  old  gentry  of  the  prov- 
ince were  looked  upon  almost  as  noblemen  while  Massa- 
chusetts was  under  royal  government. 

But  now,  all  hereditary  reverence  for  birth  and  rank  were 
gone.  The  inhabitants  shouted  in  derision  when  they  saw  the 
venerable  form  of  the  old  chief  justice.  They  laid  the  wrongs 
of  the  country  and  their  own  sufferings  during  the  siege — the 
hunger,  cold,  and  sickness — partly  to  his  charge  and  to  that 
of  his  brother  Andrew  and  his  kinsman  Hutchinson.  It  was 
by  their  advice  that  the  king  had  acted  in  all  the  colonial 
troubles.     But  the  day  of  recompense  was  come. 

"See  the  old  tory!"  cried  the  people,  with  bitter  laughter. 
"He  is  taking  his  last  look  at  us.  Let  him  show  his  white 
wig  among  us  an  hour  hence,  and  we'll  give  him  a  coat  of  tar 
and  feathers!" 

The  chief  justice,  however,  knew  that  he  need  fear  no  vio- 
lence so  long  as  the  British  troops  were  in  possession  of  the 
town.  But,  alas!  it  was  a  bitter  thought  that  he  should  leave 
no  loving  memory  behind  him.  His  forefathers,  long  after 
their  spirits  left  the  earth,  had  been  honored  in  the  affection- 
ate remembrance  of  the  people.  But  he,  who  would  hence- 
forth be  dead  to  his  native  land,  would  have  no  epitaph  save 
scornful  and  vindictive  words.     The  old  man  wept. 

"They  curse  me — they  invoke  all  kinds  of  evil  on  my  head!" 
thought  he,  in  the  midst  of  his  tears.  "But,  if  they  could  have 
read  my  heart  they  would  know  that  I  love  New  England 
well.  Heaven  bless  her,  and  bring  her  again  under  the  rule 
of  our  gracious  king!  A  blessing,  too,  on  these  poor,  mis- 
guided people!" 

The  chief  justice  flung  out  his  hands  with  a  gesture,  as  if  he 
were  bestowing  a  parting  benediction  on  his  countrymen. 
He  had  now  reached  the  southern  portion  of  the  town  and  was 
far  within  the  range  of  cannon  shot  from  the  American  bat- 
teries. Close  beside  him  was  the  broad  stump  of  a  tree, 
which  appeared   to   have    been   recently    cut   down.       Being 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  171 

weary  and  heavy  at  heart,  he  was  about  to  sit  down  upon  the 
stump. 

Suddenly  it  flashed  upon  his  recollection  that  this  was  the 
stump  of  Liberty  Tree!  The  British  soldiers  had  cut  it  down, 
vainly  boasting  that  they  could  as  easily  overthrow  the  liber- 
ties of  America.  Under  its  shadowy  branches,  ten  years 
before,  the  brother  of  Chief  Justice  Oliver  had  been  com- 
pelled to  acknowledge  the  supremacy  of  the  people  by  taking 
the  oath  which  they  prescribed.  This  tree  was  connected 
with  all  the  events  that  had  severed  America  from  England. 

4* Accursed  tree!"  cried  the  chief  justice,  gnashing  his  teeth; 
for  anger  overcame  his  sorrow.  "Would  that  thou  hadst  been 
left  standing  till  Hancock,  Adams,  and  every  other  traitor 
were  hanged  upon  thy  branches!  Then  fitly  mightest  thou 
have  been  hewn  down  and  cast  into  the  flames." 

He  turned  back,  hurried  to  Long  Wharf  without  looking 
behind  him,  embarked  with  the  British  troops  for  Halifax, 
and  never  saw  his  country  more.  Throughout  the  remainder 
of  his  days  Chief  Justice  Oliver  was  agitated  with  those  same 
conflicting  emotions  that  had  tortured  him  while  taking  his 
farewell  walk  through  the  streets  of  Boston.  Deep  love  and 
fierce  resentment  burned  in  one  flame  within  his  breast. 
Anathemas  struggled  with  benedictions.  He  felt  as  if  one 
breath  of  his  native  air  would  renew  his  life,  yet  would  have 
died  rather  than  brealhe  the  same  air  with  rebels.  And  such 
likewise  were  the  feelings  of  the  other  exiles,  a  thousand  in 
number,  who  departed  with  the  British  army.  Were  they  not 
the  most  unfortunate  of  men? 

"The  misfortunes  of  those  exiled  tories, "  observed  Lau- 
rence, "must  have  made  them  think  of  the  poor  exiles  of 
Acadia." 

"They  had  a  sad  time  of  it,  I  suppose,"  said  Charley. 
"But  I  choose  to  rejoice  with  the  patriots,  rather  than  be 
sorrowful  with  the  tories.  Grandfather,  what  did  General 
Washington  do  now?" 


172  GRANDFATHER'S   CHAIR 

"As  the  rear  of  the  British  army  embarked  from  the 
wharf,"  replied  Grandfather,  "General  Washington's  troops 
marched  over  the  neck,  through  the  fortification  gates,  and 
entered  Boston  in  triumph.  And  now,  for  the  first  time  since 
the  pilgrims  landed,  Massachusetts  was  free  from  the  dominion 
of  England.  May  she  never  again  be  subjected  to  foreign 
rule, — never  again  feel  the  rod  of  oppression!" 

"Dear  Grandfather,"  asked  little  Alice,  "did  General 
Washington  bring  our  chair  back  to  Boston?" 

"I  know  not  how  long  the  chair  remained  at  Cambridge," 
said  Grandfather.  "Had  it  stayed  there  till  this  time,  it  could 
not  have  found  a  better  or  more  appropriate  shelter.  The 
mansion  which  General  Washington  occupied  is  still  standing; 
and  his  apartments  have  since  been  tenanted  by  several  emi- 
nent men.  Governor  Everett,  while  a  professor  in  the  uni- 
versity, resided  there.  So,  at  an  after  period,  did  Mr.  Sparks, 
whose  invaluable  labors  have  connected  his  name  with  the 
immortality  of  Washington.  And  at  this  very  time  a  vener- 
able friend  and  contemporary  of  your  Grandfather,  after  long 
pilgrimages  beyond  the  sea,  has  set  up  his  staff  of  rest  at 
Washington's  headquarters." 

"You  mean  Professor  Longfellow,  Grandfather,"  said 
Laurence.  "Oh,  how  I  should  love  to  see  the  author  of  those 
beautiful  Voices  of  the  Night!" 

"We  will  visit  him  next  summer,"  answered  Grandfather, 
"and  take  Clara  and  little  Alice  with  us. — and  Charley,  too,  if 
he  will  be  quiet." 

CHAPTER   X 

When  Grandfather  resumed  his  narrative,  he  told  the  chil- 
dren that  he  had  some  difficulty  in  tracing  the  movements  of 
the  chair  during  a  short  period  after  Washington's  departure 
from  Cambridge. 

Within  a  few  months,  however,  it  made  its  appearance  at  a 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


173 


shop  in  Boston,   before  the  door  of  which  was  seen  a  striped 
pole.       In  short    it  was  a  barber's  shop   kept  by  Mr.  Pierce, 


LORD   CORNWALLIS,   WHO   COMMANDED   AT   YORKTOWN 

who   prided  himself  on   having   shaved  General  Washington, 
Old  Put,  and  many  other  famous  persons. 


174  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

"This  was  not  a  very  dignified  situation  for  our  venerable 
chair,"  continued  Grandfather;  "but  you  know,  there  is  no 
better  place  for  news  than  a  barber's  shop.  All  the  events  of 
the  Revolutionary  War  were  heard  of  there  sooner  than  any- 
where else.  People  used  to  sit  in  the  chair,  reading  the  news- 
paper, or  talking,  and  waiting  to  be  shaved,  while  Mr.  Pierce, 
with  his  scissors  and  razor,  was  at  work  upon  the  heads  or 
chins  of  his  other  customers." 

"I  am  sorry  the  chair  could  not  betake  itself  to  some  more 
suitable  place  of  refuge, "  said  Laurence.  "It  was  old  now, 
and  must  have  longed  for  quiet.  Besides,  after  it  had  held 
Washington  in  its  arms,  it  ought  not  to  have  been  compelled 
to  receive  all  the  world.  It  should  have  been  put  into  the 
pulpit  of  the  Old  South  Church,  or  some  other  consecrated 
place." 

"Perhaps  so,"  answered  Grandfather.  "But  the  chair,  in 
the  course  of  its  varied  existence  had  grown  so  accustomed  to 
general  intercourse  with  society,  that  I  doubt  whether  it  would 
have  contented  itself  in  the  pulpit  of  the  Old  South.  There 
it  would  have  stood  solitary,  or  with  no  livelier  companion 
than  the  silent  organ,  in  the  opposite  gallery,  six  days  out  of 
seven.  I  incline  to  think  that  it  had  seldom  been  situated 
more  to  its  mind  than  on  the  sanded  floor  of  the  snug  little 
barber's  shop. " 

Then  Grandfather  amused  his  children  and  himself  with 
fancying  all  the  different  sorts  of  people  who  had  occupied  our 
chair  while  they  awaited  the  leisure  of  the  barber. 

There  was  the  old  clergyman,  such  as  Dr.  Chauncey,  wear- 
ing a  white  wig,  which  the  barber  took  from  his  head  and 
placed  upon  a  wig  block.  Half  an  hour,  perhaps,  was  spent  in 
combing  and  powdering  this  reverend  appendage  to  a  clerical 
skull.  There,  too,  were  officers  of  the  Continental  army,  who 
required  their  hair  to  be  pomatumed  and  plastered,  so  as  to 
give  them  a  bold  and  martial  aspect.  There,  once  in  a  while, 
was  seen  the  thin  care-worn,  melancholy  visage  of  an  old  tory, 


176  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

with  a  wig  that,  in  times  long  past,  had  perhaps  figured  at  a 
Province  House  ball.  And  there,  not  unfrequently,  sat  the 
rough  captain  of  a  privateer,  just  returned  from  a  successful 
cruise,  in  which  he  had  captured  half  a  dozen  richly  laden 
vessels  belonging  to  King  George's  subjects.  And,  some- 
times a  rosy  little  school-boy  climbed  into  our  chair,  and  sat 
staring,  with  wide-open  eyes,  at  the  alligator,  the  rattlesnake, 
and  the  other  curiosities  of  the  barber's  shop.  His  mother 
had  sent  him  with  sixpence  in  his  hand,  to  get  his  glossy  curls 
cropped  off.  The  incidents  of  the  Revolution  plentifully  sup- 
plied the  barber's  customers  with  topics  of  conversation. 
They  talked  sorrowfully  of  the  death  of  General  Montgomery 
and  the  failure  of  our  troops  to  take  Quebec;  for  the  New 
Englanders  were  now  as  anxious  to  get  Canada  from  the  Eng- 
lish as  they  had  formerly  been  to  conquer  it  from  the  French. 

"But  very  soon,"  said  Grandfather,  "came  news  from  Phil- 
adelphia, the  most  important  that  America  had  ever  heard. 
On  July  4,  1776,  Congress  had  signed  the  Declaration  of  Inde- 
pendence. The  thirteen  colonies  were  now  free  and  inde- 
pendent states.  Dark  as  our  prospects  were,  the  inhabitants 
welcomed  the  glorious  tidings,  and  resolved  to  perish  rather 
than  again  bear  the  yoke  of  England!" 

"And  I  would  perish  too!"  cried  Charley. 

"It  was  a  great  day, — a  glorious  deed!"  said  Laurence,  col- 
oring high  with  enthusiasm.  "And,  Grandfather,  I  love  to 
think  that  the  sages  in  congress  showed  themselves  as  bold 
and  true  as  the  soldiers  in  the  field;  for  it  must  have  required 
more  courage  to  sign  the  Declaration  of  Independence  than 
to  fight  the  enemy  in  battle." 

Grandfather  acquiesced  in  Laurence's  view  of  the  matter. 
He  then  touched  briefly  upon  the  prominent  events  of  the 
Revolution.  The  thunder-storm  of  war  had  now  rolled  south- 
ward, and  did  not  again  burst  upon  Massachusetts,  where  its 
first  fury  had  been  felt.  But  she  contributed  her  full  share 
to  the  success  of  the  contest.     Wherever  a  battle  was  fought, 


GENERAL   BURGOYNE,  WHO   SURRENDERED   AT   SARATOGA 


178  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

— whether  at  Long  Island,  White  Plains,  Trenton,  Princeton, 
Brandywine,  or  Germantown, — some  of  her  brave  sons  were 
found  slain  upon  the  field. 

In  October,  1777,  Burgoyne  surrendered  his  army,  at  Sara- 
toga, to  the  American  General,  Gates.  The  captured  troops 
were  sent  to  Massachusetts.  Not  long  afterwards,  Benjamin 
Franklin  made  a  treaty  at  Paris,  by  which  France  bound  her- 
self to  assist  our  countrymen.  The  gallant  Lafayette  was 
already  fighting  for  our  freedom  by  the  side  of  Washington. 
In  1778  a  French  fleet,  commanded  by  Count  d'Estaing,  spent 
a  considerable  time  in  Boston  harbor.  It  marks  the  vicissi- 
tudes of  human  affairs,  that  the  French,  our  ancient  enemies, 
should  come  hither  as  comrades  and  brethren,  and  that  kin- 
dred England  should  be  our  foe. 

"While  the  war  was  raging  in  the  middle  and  southern 
States,"  proceeded  Grandfather,  "Massachusetts  had  leisure 
to  settle  a  new  constitution  of  government  instead  of  the 
royal  charter.  This  was  done  in  1780.  In  the  same  year 
John  Hancock,  who  had  been  president  of  Congress,  was 
chosen  governor  of  the  State.  He  was  the  first  whom  the 
people   had  elected  since  the  days  of  old  Simon  Bradstreet." 

"But,  Grandfather,  who  had  been  governor  since  the  British 
were  driven  away?"  inquired  Laurence.  "Gage  and  Howe 
were  the  last  whom  you  have  told  us  of." 

"There  had  been  no  governor  for  the  last  four  years," 
replied  Grandfather.  "Massachusetts  had  been  ruled  by  the 
legislature,  to  whom  the  people  paid  obedience  of  their  own 
accord.  It  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  circumstances  in 
our  history,  that,  when  the  charter  government  was  over- 
thrown by  the  war,  no  anarchy  nor  the  slightest  confusion 
ensued.  This  was  a  great  honor  to  the  people.  But,  now, 
Hancock  was  proclaimed  governor  by  sound  of  trumpet;  and 
there  was  again  a  settled  government." 

Grandfather  again  adverted  to  the  progress  of  the  war.  In 
1781,  Greene  drove  the  British  from  the  Southern  States.     In 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  179 

October  of  the  same  year  Washington  compelled  Cornwallis 
to  surrender  his  army,  at  Yorktown,  in  Virginia.  This  was 
the  last  great  event  of  the  Revolutionary  contest.  King 
George  and  his  ministers  perceived  that  all  the  might  of  Eng- 
land could  not  compel  America  to  renew  her  allegiance  to  the 
crown.  After  a  great  deal  of  discussion,  a  treaty  of  peace 
was  signed  in  September,  1783. 

"Now,  at  last,"  said  Grandfather,  "after  weary  years  of 
war,  the  regiments  of  Massachusetts  returned  in  peace  to  their 
families.  Now  the  stately  and  dignified  leaders,  such  as  Gen- 
eral Lincoln  and  General  Knox,  with  their  powdered  hair  and 
their  uniforms  of  blue  and  buff,  were  seen  moving  about  the 
streets." 

"And  little  boys  ran  after  them,  I  suppose,"  remarked 
Charley;  "and  the  grown  people  bowed  respectfully." 

"They  deserved  respect,  for  they  were  good  men  as  well  as 
brave,"  answered  Grandfather.  "Now,  too,  the  inferior 
officers  and  privates  came  home  to  some  peaceful  occupation. 
Their  friends  remembered  them  as  slender  and  smooth- 
cheeked  young  men;  but  they  returned  with  the  erect  and 
rigid  mien  of  disciplined  soldiers.  Some  hobbled  on  crutches 
and  wooden  legs;  others  have  received  wounds,  which  were 
still  rankling  in  their  breasts.  Many,  alas!  had  fallen  in  bat- 
tle, and  perhaps  were  left  unburied  on  the  bloody  field." 

"The  country  must  have  been  sick  of  war,"  observed 
Laurence. 

"One  would  have  thought  so,"  said  Grandfather.  "Yet 
only  two  or  three  years  elapsed  before  the  folly  of  some  mis- 
guided men  caused  another  mustering  of  soldiers.  This  affair 
was  called  Shays'  war,  because  a  Captain  Shays  was  the  chief 
leader  of  the  insurgents.  " 

"O  Grandfather,  don't  let  there  be  another  war!"  cried  little 
Alice  piteously. , 

Grandfather  comforted  his  dear  little  girl  by  assuring  her 
that  there  was  no  great  mischief  done.      Shays'  war  happened 


180  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

in  the  latter  part  of  1786  and  the  beginning  of  the  following 
year.  Its  principal  cause  was  the  badness  of  times.  The 
State  of  Massachusetts,  in  its  public  capacity,  was  very  much 
in  debt.  So,  likewise,  were  many  of  the  people.  An  insur- 
rection took  place,  the  object  of  which  seems  to  have  been  to 
interrupt  the  course  of  law  and  get  rid  of  debts  and  taxes. 

James  Bowdoin,  a  good  and  able  man,  was  now  governor  of 
Massachusetts.  He  sent  General  Lincoln,  at  the  head  of  four 
thousand  men,  to  put  down  the  insurrection.  This  general, 
who  had  fought  through  several  hard  campaigns  in  the  Revo- 
lution, managed  matters  like  an  old  soldier,  and  totally 
defeated  the  rebels  at  the  expense  of  very  little  blood. 

"There  is  but  one  more  public  event  to  be  recorded  in  the 
history  of  our  chair,"  proceeded  Grandfather.  "In  the  year 
1794,  Samuel  Adams  was  elected  governor  of  Massachusetts. 
I  have  told  you  what  a  distinguished  patriot  he  was,  and  how 
much  he  resembled  the  stern  old  Puritans.  Could  the  ancient 
freemen  of  Massachusetts  who  lived  in  the  days  of  the  first 
charter  have  arisen  from  their  graves,  they  would  probably 
have  voted  for  Samuel  Adams  to  be  governor." 

"Well,  Grandfather,  I  hope  he  satin  our  chair!"  said  Clara. 

"He  did,"  replied  Grandfather.  "He  had  long  been  in  the 
habit  of  visiting  the  barber's  shop,  where  our  venerable  chair, 
philosophically  forgetful  of  its  former  dignities,  had  now 
spent  nearly  eighteen  not  uncomfortable  years.  Such  a 
remarkable  piece  of  furniture,  so  evidently  a  relic  of  long- 
departed  times,  could  not  escape  the  notice  of  Samuel  Adams. 
He  made  minute  researches  into  its  history,  and  ascertained 
what  a  succession  of  excellent  and  famous  people  had  occupied 
it." 

"How  did  he  find  it  out?"  asked  Charley;  "for  I  suppose 
the  chair  could  not  tell  its  own  history." 

"There  used  to  be  a  vast  collection  of  ancient  letters  and 
other  documents  in  the  tower  of  the  Old  South  Church," 
answered   Grandfather.      "Perhaps  the   history  of  our  chair 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


181 


was  contained  among  these.  At  all  events,  Samuel  Adams 
appears  to  have  been  well  acquainted  with  it.  When  he 
became  governor,  he  felt  that  he  could  have  no  more  honor- 
able seat  than  that  which  had  been  the  ancient  Chair  of  State. 


BENJAMIN   FRANKLIN 

He  therefore  purchased  it  for  a  trifle,  and  filled  it  worthily 
for  three  years  as  governor  of  Massachusetts." 

"And  what  next?"  asked  Charley. 

"That  is  all,"  said  Grandfather,  heaving  a  sigh;  for  he 
could  not  help  being  a  little  sad  at  the  thought  that  his  stories 
must  close  here.       "Samuel  Adams  died   in  1803,  at  the  age 


182  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

of  about  three-score  and  ten.  He  was  a  great  patriot,  but  a 
poor  man.  At  his  death  he  left  scarcely  property  enough  to 
pay  the  expenses  of  his  funeral.  This  precious  chair,  among 
his  other  effects,  was  sold  at  auction;  and  your  Grandfather, 
who  was  then  in  the  strength  of  his  years,  became  the  pur- 
chaser." 

Laurence,  with  a  mind  full  of  thoughts  that  struggled  for 
expression,  but  could  find  none,  looked  steadfastly  at  the 
chair.  He  had  now  learned  all  its  history,  yet  was  not  sat- 
isfied. 

"Oh,  how  I  wish  that  the  chair  could  speak!"  cried  he. 
"After  its  long  intercourse  with  mankind, — after  looking 
upon  the  world  for  ages, — what  lessons  of  golden  wisdom  it 
might  utter!  It  might  teach  a  private  person  how  to  lead  a 
good  and  happy  life, — or  a  statesman  how  to  make  his  country 
prosperous." 

CHAPTER   XI 

Grandfather  was  struck  by  Laurence's  idea  that  the  historic 
chair  should  utter  a  voice,  and  thus  pour  forth  the  collected 
wisdom  of  two  centuries.  The  old  gentleman  had  once  pos- 
sessed no  inconsiderable  share  of  fancy;  and  even  now  its 
fading  sunshine  occasionally  glimmered  among  his  more 
somber  reflections. 

As  the  history  of  the  chair  had  exhausted  all  his  facts, 
Grandfather  determined  to  have  recourse  to  fable.  So,  after 
warning  the  children  that  they  must  not  mistake  this  story 
for  a  true  one,  he  related  what  we  shall  call : 

grandfather's  dream 

Laurence  and  Clara,  where  were  you  last  night?  Where 
were  you,  Charley,  and  dear  little  Alice?  You  had  all  gone 
to  rest,  and  left  old  Grandfather  to  meditate  alone  in  his  great 
chair.       The   lamp   had   grown   so  dim  that  its  light  hardly 


BUNKER  HILL    MONUMENT 


184  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

illuminated  the  alabaster  shade.  The  wood  fire  had  crumbled 
into  heavy  embers,  among  which  the  little  flames  danced,  and 
quivered,  and  sported  about  like  fairies. 

And  here  sat  Grandfather  all  by  himself.  He  knew  that  it 
was  bedtime  ;  yet  he  could  not  help  longing  to  hear  your  merry 
voices,  or  to  hold  a  comfortable  chat  with  some  old  friend; 
because  then  his  pillow  would  be  visited  by  pleasant  dreams. 
But,  as  neither  children  nor  friends  were  at  hand,  Grand- 
father leaned  back  in  the  great  chair  and  closed  his  eyes,  for 
the  sake  of  meditating  more  profoundly. 

And,  when  Grandfather's  meditations  had  grown  very  pro- 
found indeed,  he  fancied  that  he  heard  a  sound  over  his  head, 
as  if  somebody  were  preparing  to  speak.  "Hem!"  it  said,  in 
a  dry,  husky  tone.  "H-e-m!  Hem!"  As  Grandfather  did 
not  know  that  any  person  was  in  the  room,  he  started  up  in 
great  surprise,  and  peeped  hither  and  thither,  behind  the 
chair,  and  into  the  recess  by  the  fireside  and  at  the  dark  nook 
yonder  near  the  bookcase.      Nobody  could  he  see. 

"Pooh!"  said  Grandfather  to  himself,  "I  must  have  been 
dreaming. " 

But,  just  as  he  was  going  to  resume  his  seat,  Grandfather 
happened  to  look  at  the  great  chair.  The  rays  of  firelight 
were  flickering  upon  it  in  such  a  manner  that  it  really  seemed 
as  if  its  oaken  frame  were  all  alive.  What!  Did  it  not  move 
its  elbow?  There,  too!  It  certainly  lifted  one  of  its  ponder- 
ous fore-legs  as  if  it  had  a  notion  of  drawing  itself  a  little 
nearer  to  the  fire.  Meanwhile,  the  lion's  head  nodded  at 
Grandfather  with  as  polite  and  sociable  a  look  as  a  lion's  vis- 
age, carved  in  oak,  could  possibly  be  expected  to  assume. 
Well,  this  is  strange! 

"Good-evening,  my  old  friend,"  said  the  dry  and  husky 
voice,  now  a  little  clearer  than  before.  "We  have  been  inti- 
mately acquainted  so  long  that  I  think  it  high  time  we  have 
a  chat  together. " 

Grandfather  was  looking  straight  at  the  lion's  head,  and 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  .  185 

could  not  be  mistaken  in  supposing  that  it  moved  its  lips. 
So  here  the  mystery  was  all  explained. 

"I  was  not  aware,"  said  Grandfather  with  a  civil  salutation 
to  his  oaken  companion,  "that  you  possessed  the  faculty  of 
speech.  Otherwise  I  should  often  have  been  glad  to  converse 
with  such  a  solid,  useful,  and  substantial,  if  not  brilliant, 
member  of  society." 

"Oh!"  replied  the  ancient  chair,  in  a  quiet  and  easy  tone, 
for  it  had  now  cleared  its  throat  of  the  dust  of  ages,  "I  am 
naturally  a  silent  and  uncommunicative  sort  of  character. 
Once  or  twice  in  the  course  of  a  century  I  unclose  my  lips. 
When  the  gentle  Lady  Arbella  departed  this  life  I  uttered  a 
groan.  When  the  honest  mint-master  weighed  his  plump 
daughter  against  the  pine-tree  shillings  I  chuckled  audibly  at 
the  joke.  When  old  Simon  Bradstreet  took  the  place  of  the 
tyrant  Andros  I  joined  in  the  general  huzza,  and  capered  on 
my  wooden  legs  for  joy.  To  be  sure,  the  bystanders  were  so 
fully  occupied  with  their  own  feelings  that  my  sympathy  was 
quite  unnoticed." 

"And  have  you  often  held  a  private  chat  with  your 
friends?"  asked  Grandfather. 

"Not  often,"  answered  the  chair.  "I  once  talked  with  Sir 
William  Phips,  and  communicated  my  ideas  about  the  witch- 
craft delusion.  Cotton  Mather  had  many  conversations  with 
me,  and  derived  great  benefit  from  my  historical  reminis- 
cences. In  the  days  of  the  Stamp  Act  I  whispered  in  the  ear 
of  Hutchinson,  bidding  him  to  remember  what  stock  his  coun- 
trymen were  descended  of,  and  to  think  whether  the  spirit  of 
their  forefathers  had  utterly  departed  from  them.  The  last 
man  whom  I  favored  with  a  colloquy  was  that  stout  old 
republican,  Samuel  Adams." 

"And  how  happens  it,"  inquired  Grandfather,  "that  there 
is  no  record  nor  tradition  of  your  conversational  abilities?  It 
is  an  uncommon  thing  to  meet  with  a  chair  that  can  talk." 

"Why,  to  tell  you  the  truth,"  said  the  chair,  giving  itself  a 


186  GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 

hitch  nearer  to  the  hearth,  "I  am  not  apt  to  choose  the  most 
suitable  moments  for  unclosing  my  lips.  Sometimes  I  have 
inconsiderately  begun  to  speak,  when  my  occupant,  lolling 
back  in  my  arms,  was  inclined  to  take  an  after-dinner  nap. 
Or,  perhaps  the  impulse  to  talk  may  be  felt  at  midnight,  when 
the  lamp  burns  dim  and  the  fire  crumbles  into  decay,  and  the 
studious  or  thoughtful  man  finds  that  his  brain  is  in  a  mist. 
Oftenest,  I  have  unwisely  uttered  my  wisdom  in  the  ears  of 
sick  persons,  when  the  inquietude  of  fever  made  them  toss 
about  upon  my  cushion.  And  so  it  happens  that,  though  my 
words  make  a  pretty  strong  impression  at  the  moment,  yet 
my  auditors  invariably  remember  them  only  as  a  dream.  1 
should  not  wonder  if  you,  my  excellent  friend,  were  to  do  the 
same  to-morrow  morning." 

"Nor  I  either,"  thought  Grandfather  to  himself.  How- 
ever, he  thanked  this  respectable  old  chair  for  beginning  the 
conversation,  and  begged  to  know  whether  it  had  anything 
particular  to  communicate. 

"I  have  been  listening  attentively  to  your  narrative  of  my 
adventures,"  replied  the  chair;  "and  it  must  be  owned  that 
your  correctness  entitles  you  to  be  held  up  as  a  pattern  to 
biographers.  Nevertheless,  there  are  a  few  omissions  which 
I  should  be  glad  to  see  supplied.  For  instance,  you  made  no 
mention  of  the  good  knight,  Sir  Richard  Saltonstall,  nor  of 
the  famous  Hugh  Peters,  nor  of  those  old  regicide  judges, 
Whalley,  Goffe,  and  Dixwell.  Yet  I  have  borne  the  weight 
of  those  distinguished  characters  at  one  time  or  another." 

Grandfather  promised  amendment  if  ever  he  should  have 
an  opportunity  to  repeat  his  narrative.  The  good  old  chair, 
which  still  seemed  to  retain  a  due  regard  for  outward  appear- 
ance, then  reminded  him  how  long  a  time  had  passed  since  it 
had  been  provided  with  a  new  cushion.  It  likewise  expressed 
the  opinion  that  the  oaken  figures  on  its  back  would  show  to 
much  better  advantage  by  the  aid  of  a  little  varnish. 

"And  I  have  had  a  complaint  in  this  joint,"  continued  the 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR  187 

chair,  endeavoring  to  lift  one  of  its  legs,  "ever  since  Charley 
trundled  his  wheelbarrow  against  me." 

"It  shall  be  attended  to,"  said  Grandfather. 

"And  now,  venerable  chair,  I  have  a  favor  to  solicit.  Dur- 
ing an  existence  of  more  than  two  centuries  you  have  had  a 
familiar  intercourse  with  men  who  were  esteemed  the  wisest 
of  their  day.  Doubtless,  with  your  capacious  understanding, 
you  have  treasured  up  many  an  invaluable  lesson  of  wisdom. 
You  certainly  have  had  time  enough  to  guess  the  riddle  of 
life.     Tell  us,  poor  mortals,  then,  how  we  may  be  happy." 

The  lion's  head  fixed  its  eyes  thoughtfully  upon  the  fire, 
and  the  whole  chair  assumed  an  aspect  of  deep  meditation. 
Finally,  it  beckoned  to  Grandfather  with  its  elbow,  and  made 
a  step  sideways  towards  him  as  if  it  had  a  very  important 
secret  to  communicate. 

"As  long  as  I  have  stood  in  the  midst  of  human  affairs," 
said  the  chair,  with  a  very  oracular  enunciation,  "I  have  con- 
stantly observed  that  Justice,  Truth,  and  Love  are  the  chief 
ingredients  of  every  happy  life." 

"Justice,  Truth,  and  Love!"  exclaimed  Grandfather.  "We 
need  not  exist  two  centuries  to  find  out  that  these  qualities 
are  essential  to  our  happiness.  This  is  no  secret.  Every 
human  being  is  borne  with  the  instinctive  knowledge  of  it." 

"Ah!"  cried  the  chair,  drawing  back  in  surprise.  "From 
what  I  have  observed  of  the  dealings  of  man  with  man,  and 
nation  with  nation,  I  never  should  have  suspected  that  they 
knew  this  all-important  secret.  And,  with  this  eternal  lesson 
written  in  your  soul,  do  you  ask  me  to  sift  new  wisdom  for 
you  out  of  my  petty  existence  of  two  or  three  centuries?" 

"But,  my  dear  chair" — said  Grandfather. 

"Not  a  word  more,"  interrupted  the  chair;  "here  I  close 
my  lips  for  the  next  hundred  years.  At  the  end  of  that  period, 
if  I  shall  have  discovered  any  new  precepts  of  happiness  better 
than  what  heaven  has  already  taught  you,  they  shall  assuredly 
be  given  to  the  world." 


188 


GRANDFATHER'S  CHAIR 


In  the  energy  of  its  utterance  the  oaken  chair  seemed  to 
stamp  its  foot,  and  trod  (we  hope  unintentionally)  upon  Grand- 
father's toe.  The  old  gentleman  started,  and  found  that  he 
had  been  asleep  in  the  great  chair,  and  that  his  heavy  walk- 
ing stick  had  fallen  down  across  his  foot. 

"Grandfather,"  cried  little  Alice,  clapping  her  hands,  "you 
must  dream  a  new  dream  every  night  about  our  chair!" 


Young  Peoples' 

CLOTH  LIBRARY 


SQUARE  I6MO.    LAVISHLY  ILLUSTRATED. 
WITH  BEAUTIFUL  COLORED  FRONTISPIECES 


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ALICE'S  ADVENTURES  IN  WONDERLAND.  By  Lewis 
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With  24  full-page  illustrations. 

"No  sweeter— that  is  the  proper  word— Christmas  story  for  the  little  folks 
could  easily  be  found,  and  it  is  as  delightful  for  older  readers  as  well. 
There  is  a  moral  to  it  which  the  reader  can  find  out  for  himself,  if  he 
chooses  to  think." — Cleveland  Herald. 

MOTHER  GOOSE'S  RHYMES  AND  JINGLES.     Lavishly 

illustrated  with  full-page  and  text  engravings. 

"In  this  edition  an  excellent  choice  has  been  made  from  the  standard  fic- 
tion of  the  little  ones.      The  abundant  pictures  are  well  drawn  and  grace- 
ful, the  effect  frequently  striking  and  always    decorative." — Critic. 
"Only  to  see  the  book  is  to  wish  to  give  it  to  every  child  one  knows." — 
The  Queen  (London). 

NURSERY  TALES:  The  Old  Favorites.  Lavishly  illus- 
trated. These  are  the  old-time  favorites.  The  stories  need 
no  commendation. 

PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS,  THE.     By  John  Bunyan.     With 

50  full-page  and  text  illustrations. 

Pilgrim's  Progress  is  undoubtedly  the  most  popular  story  book  in  the 
world.  With  the  exception  of  the  Bible,  it  has  been  translated  into  more 
languages  than  any  other  book  ever  printed. 

It  is  a  significant  circumstance  that,  till  a  recent  period,  all  the  numerous 
editions  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress  were  evidently  meant  for  the  cottage. 
It  is  perhaps  the  only  book  about  which,  after  the  lapse  of  a  hundred 
years,  the  educated  minority  has  come  over  to  the  opinion  of  the  common 
people. 

ROBINSON  CRUSOE:  His  Life  and  Strange,  Surprising 
Adventures.  By  Daniel  Defoe.  With  70  full-page  and  text 
illustrations  by  Walter  Paget. 

"Was  there  ever  anything  written  that  the  reader  wished  longer  except 
Robinson  Crusoe  and  Pilgrim's  Progress?"— Samuel  Johnson. 
"There  exists  no  work,  either  of  instruction  or  entertainment,  which  has 
been  more  generally  read,  and  universally  admired." — Walter  Scott. 


TREASURE   ISLAND.     By   Robert   L.    Stevenson.     With 

60  illustrations. 

The  greatest  book  on  treasure-seeking  ever  written.  Might  be  classed 
with  equal  propriety  as  a  boys'  book  or  as  a  tale  of  the  sea.  It  is  sturdy  in 
tone,  not  over-sensational,  and  the  best  story  of  pirates  and  hidden 
treasure  ever  written.    The  book  is  a  delight  to  any  manly  boy. 

A    WONDER    BOOK    FOR     BOYS    AND    GIRLS.      By 

Nathaniel  Hawthorne.     Beautifully  illustrated. 

Here  are  several  of  the  marvelous  stories  from  the  age  of  fable  told  again 
in  Hawthorne's  charming  style.  The  book  is  generally  used  in  the  schools 
as  supplementary  reading,  and  should  find  its  place  in  every  schoolboy's 
library.    These  charming  stories  will  live  forever. 

A    CHILD'S    HISTORY    OF    ENGLAND.      By     Charles 
Dickens.     With  60  illustrations. 

Dickens  grew  tired  of  listening  to  his  children  memorizing  the  twaddle 
that  went  under  the  name  of  English  history.  He  thereupon  wrote  a 
book,  primarily  for  the  educational  advantage  of  his  own  children,  but 
was  prevailed  upon  to  publish  the  work,  and  make  its  use  general.  Its 
success  was  instantaneous,  and  it  is  the  only  history  that  has  ever  since 
kept  an  abiding  hold  upon  public  favor.  Our  edition  is  a  trifle  abridged 
and  is  beautifully  illustrated. 

TALES  FROM  SHAKESPEARE.     By  Charles   and  Mary 

Lamb.     With  80  illustrations. 

Charles  Lamb,  the  author  of  the  celebrated  "Essays  of  Elia,"  acknowl- 
edged to  be  one  of  the  most  exquisite  volumes  in  the  wnole  range  of  Eng- 
lish literature,  was  assisted  by  his  sister  Mary,  a  woman  of  considerable 
literary  talent,  in  the  authorship  of  these  famous  "Tales."  They  are 
intended  primarily  for  girls'  reading  and  as  an  introduction  to  the  study 
of  the  immortal  dramatist,  Shakespeare.  The  stories  are  capitally  told. 
The  estimation  that  the  book  is  universally  held  in  may  be  grathered  from 
the  fact  that  in  nearly  all  the  high  schools  the  book  is  used  as  a  text  book 
on  English  literature.  No  better  book  can  be  placed  in  the  hands  of  a  girl. 
The  text  is  somewhat  abridged,  and  a  few  of  the  tales  are  necessarily  left 
out  of  a  volume  intended  for  young  people's  reading.  The  book  is  beauti- 
fully illustrated. 

RIP  VAN  WINKLE,  AND  THE  LEGEND  OF  SLEEPY 

HOLLOW.     By  Washington  Irving.     With  60  illustrations. 

A  beautiful  edition  of  this  immortal  classic,  where  justice  has  been  done 
to  the  engaging  good-for-nothing  in  the  illustrations  by  Gordon  Browne 
and  George  H.  Boughton,  and  F.  O.  C.  Darley.  The  most  lavishly  illus- 
trated edition  on  the  market,  and  one  that  will  be  heartily  welcomed  by 
the  younger  generation  of  readers. 

W.  B.  CONKEY  COMPANY,  Publishers,  Chicago 


